#i can clearly picture my friends and i doing and saying plenty of the dumb things that the characters do

[upside-down-theater-kid]

I find it funny that despite Derry Girls being set in the 90s and none of the actors or writers being anywhere close in age to teenagers, the characters on the show are still the most accurate depictions of teenagers that I've ever seen on a TV show.

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Beware the physical exam!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: Physical exams come around and Kyoya commits an unexpected act of kindness. ➼ what to expect: “Don't play dumb with me y/n it doesn't suit you" ➼ warnings: slight angst, brief hints of body dysmorphia ➼ Part Two | Part Four

As you were sat beneath the cherry blossoms of the gardens for the flower viewing reception you were starting to think that if Kyoya hadn't been born into a powerful family he would've made one hell of a telemarketer.

You shake your head smiling as you listen to him shamelessly sell photobooks to today's guests. “Well, now we know how the club makes extra money.” Hikaru and Kaoru commented as they pulled themselves out of the 'brotherly love' act they had been putting on.

“But I have to wonder-”

“-when did he take pictures of us?”

The true answer to that was he didn't, one perk of your role in the host club is that you have plenty of spare time so Kyoya asked you to take some pictures. Although it was a strange request you are always open to a little side hustle.

The twins soon adverted their attention to Haruhi as they bombarded her with questions about class, leaving Tamaki to lose his mind in Jealousy of not being in a class with her.

“Say, Mommy dear?”

Kyoya’s attention is gained by Tamaki, sulking with his knees drawn up to his chest bear the trunk of a large, looming tree.

“What is it now… Daddy?” you can detect the hint of amusement in Kyoya’s tone, smiling as you move to join him.

“I have a new theory. I mean, it’s just my hypothesis, but it seems that by being in the same class, Hikaru and Kaoru are able to spend more time with Haruhi than I get to here at the club! This gives them the chance to get close to her and if that happens-!”

“Tamaki… you’re only just now realizing this?” You grin teasingly. Tamaki yells in anguish and you chuckle despite yourself.

Suddenly, Kyoya pulls out a board of Pie charts of time spent with Haruhi between the hosts. Where on earth does he get these from?

“According to my research, in a single day, the twins spend roughly 9 hours of class time with Haruhi. Meanwhile, your contact with her is limited to a couple hours of club activities. In other words, your involvement in Haruhi’s life each day amounts to no more than a mere 3%-”

“AHHHH I DON’T WANNA HEAR IT, I DON’T WANNA HEAR IT!” Tamaki screams, hands covering his ears to block out the truth.

“Listen, Haruhi. I want you to stop hanging out with those shady twins from now on!”

“Who’re you calling shady!?”

“Yeah, take a good look at yourself, Boss!”

“Yes… that’s it! Alright, then! We can’t go on hiding the fact that you’re a girl from everyone in the school any longer! All Daddy wants is for you to go back to being the girl you used to be! For you to surround yourself girl friends and start leading wholesome lives~!”

“Who’re you calling Daddy-?”

“So do it, change back now, change back now!” Tamaki shakes Haruhi desperately, who can't do anything but remain stunned. "You guys do realise that physical exams are the day after tomorrow? She's gonna get found out anyway"

They freeze, clearly not having thought over the possibility before. "That's right...I forgot about that" Kyoya speaks up. You new about it too well, you hated physical exams.

"So that means… there’s no doubt.” Haruhi realizes.

“They’re gonna know you’re a girl.” you affirm when she pauses.

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“He must be having a great daydream!”

You, Honey and the twins looked on as Tamaki immersed himself in a daydream.

“He’s kind of creeping me out…” you grimace, watching his mouth hang open in a dizzy daydream.

“Envious? This is all part of my strategy. While you’ve wasted time, blinded by your jealousy, I’ve foreseen the outcome of this charade.” Tamaki smirks

“Jealousy?” you scoff, what he thought you were jealous of you had no idea. Kyoya places his hand on your shoulder “Pay him no mind.”

“Ah~ this anime is obviously a romantic school comedy! Haruhi and I are the main characters, so that means we are love-interests.” Tamaki places his hand under his chin, practically sparkling.

“Yeah, then what are we?” Hikaru and Kaoru’s faces are extremely unamused.

“You boys… are the homosexual supporting cast.”

Kyoya and you exchange glances as if to question whether you were included in this. You simply shrugged at him, unsure of the answer.

"Hey, listen, Boss.”

“I don’t think you get it.”

“If word gets out that Haru-chan is really a girl, then she won’t be able to be in the host club anymore.”

He freezes, looking defeated at the realization. “But if Haruhi started wearing girls’ clothes, I bet she’d be even cuter than she is now.” Honey added.

“She dressed like a regular girl when she was in middle school, right? She must have been pretty popular with all the boys.” Hikaru thought aloud, although it was obvious that it was just to taunt Tamaki.

“Yeah. According my investigative reports, someone would declare their undying love to her at least once a month.” Kyoya flips through his notebook.

“Oh, I see. So the Boss wouldn’t even be able to get close to her.” Kaoru points out. “But we’d be able to because we’re in class with her all day long.” Hikaru finishes quickly.

You lean over to Kyoya and whisper "One of these days we need to talk about all these investigative reports you've been doing" he shrugs "it's none of your business or concern"

"Technically, it's none of your business either" Kyoya smirked, closing his notebook with a clap. "And why should I feel the need to share any of this information with you anyway"

You laugh under your breath "One day Kyoya we are going to be living together, I would find better hiding spots if I were you" you half-heartedly threaten.

The door opens a crack, Haruhi pokes her head in the room.

“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m so late-”

“Don’t you worry, Haruhi. We’re determined to keep your secret, no one will find out that you’re really a girl during tomorrow’s physical exams! So please, promise you’ll stay our beloved secret princess!”

Haruhi blinks. “Sure.”

“You know, I think both of us would be a little peeved if we had to watch all the guys flirt with her.” Hikaru turns to Kaoru, who resonates, “Then that settles it.” Kaoru affirms.

“Listen up, squad members! At tomorrow’s physical exams, position yourselves in formation A, and then, wait for your orders.” Tamaki points at, yet another, whiteboard that’s mysteriously appeared out of thin air. The twins salute him, and Honey marvels at his leadership.

Anxiety strikes straight to your heart, fidgeting as you wave your hands "Count me out of this one I'm afraid, I won't be here tomorrow"

Kyoya shot you a pointed look that screams unconvinced but he seems to not question it directly "You don't have anything scheduled?" he flips through his notes as the colour drains from your face as you realise what he's looking at. "You have my schedule?" He shrugs "its a standard part of my investigative reports"

You don't know why you though you would have been exempt from his findings. He kept tabs on everyone at school why would it be any different for you?

"I...have....a last minute doctors appointment! Yes! Haven't been feeling well lately, should probably get it checked out" You scratch the back of your neck in hopes he'll buy it.

"Wouldn't that be more reason to go to your physical exam?" you know he doesn't mean anything by it but you could strangle kyoya and his curious self.

Your lips press into a thin line "Yes I suppose it would be" you gritted your teeth"

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“We will begin conducting physical examinations shortly, all students please proceed to the clinic in your respective school building.”

The hosts file out of their classrooms and down the hall with the rest of the students in the direction of the clinic. Haruhi clearly confused at the stark difference between the Ouran Academy physical exam and a public school's physical exam.

Or at least you could tell from down the corridor, waiting for the coast to be clear before sneaking to the library. Once all the students pile into the clinic you finally step out from behind the pillar you were hidden behind.

"Going somewhere?" You practically walk straight into Kyoya's chest "I- K-Kyoya?" His head falls to the side "Don't play dumb with me y/n it doesn't suit you"

You sigh, looking to your feet "Why are you so desperate to get out of the physical exam?" his gaze was intense and almost menacing. "that's none of your business"

"It is my business” you could not understand why he was being so difficult about this. “Are you sick?”

The question caught you off guard “What? No” Kyoya seems to grow increasingly tired of your dodging "Then what is it then? Because while you're in Japan you're meant to be my responsibility, so if you're avoiding doctors I'm concerned"

You know that he means well, but you couldn't help but feel a little peeved off at his prying and the way that he spoke about you. you know that technically speaking he was correct, the agreement between both of your father's was that you would come to japan at the start of highschool to familiarise yourself with the customs and the ootori family on the condition that Kyoya and his father ensured your wellbeing and protection. But it still didn't feel good to hear.

"There's nothing wrong with me, physically speaking at least. I just, I get uncomfortable around doctors, and revealing more skin than normal in a public setting. I just don't want to do it"

Kyoya wanted to sigh in relief that you weren't actually sick or injured, however, the concern didn't leave his body. "You're uncomfortable around doctors?" You chuckle out a bitter laugh "Ironic isn't it, I'm arranged to marry into a family that owns hospitals yet I can't be around doctors"

You shook your head "I dont even know why I'm telling you this, it's fine Kyoya, I'll just figure it out" he sighs, going to say something but you're already down the hallway before you get the chance, a man in a labcoat bumping into you on the way out of the clinic, bumbling out an apology.

As you wandered back into the clinic you had to admit that what you did not expect was to see Tamaki in all his shirtlessness attempting to impersonate Haruhi.

"Wait that's Tamaki"

"There's no denying it thats definitely Tamaki"

"Is he cosplaying as Haruhi?"

"What's going on is he trying to be funny?"

The twins burst out laughing, making it clear that they had set Tamaki up "You jerks you said there was no way the girls would be able to tell it was me!" he attempted to strangle them "It's pay back for trying to tell us we were homosexual supporting cast"

Tamaki crawled back to where the real Haruhi was hiding to face her wrath, screaming from him soon following as he ran out.

You approach the changing room in his wake in hopes of checking on Haruhi "Are you okay? Had I known they were going to do that I would have tried to stop them"

"Tamaki lives in his own care-free little world" you nod "It was a stupid idea I know, but he means well, even then it doesn't forgive some of his more less thought through ideas"

You nearly jerk back when you feel a tap on your shoulder, it's Kyoya. "Are you two ready? I went ahead and set up a separate room, a special clinic, and I have a doctor standing by, sworn to secrecy, y/n you might as well go with her"

"It turns out the doctors here today are all on staff at one of Kyoya-senpai's family's hospitals" The twins shrugged "It would have been nice if he had said something to us earlier."

"I had to get my revenge too. I'm sorry, I just don't think I'm supporting cast, homosexual or otherwise"

You paused for a moment, not expecting such an act from Kyoya. Sure the clinic was set up to protect Haruhi's secret, but ensuring you don't have to go to such a public clinic and that you had a friend with you so that you're not alone with a doctor? it was surprisingly well thought through.

Of course if you ever brought him up on it he would deny it, because that was how he was. Either way you weren't going to forget it quickly, you just couldn't figure out why, this goes beyond his obligations.

"Is there something wrong"

"Check it out. Tamaki is eroding away"

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It was as you were in the changing room of the special clinic that the guy in the lab coat from earlier snuck in "Excuse me?" Haruhi spoke up. He grabbed the shoulders of the nearest person which unfortunately for you was yourself "No it's not what you think! Please, just be quiet"

Tamaki coming out of seemingly nowhere manages to get him with a flying kick.

"One. Good looks that attract the public eye.” the twins appear in his wake, giving a deadly stare you don’t think that you’ve ever witnessed this attitude from them.

“Two. More wealth than you can imagine.” You can feel Kyoya’s dark aura radiating off of him, looking up at him behind you as he speaks, wrapping his blazer around you.

“Three. Chivalry that will never be able to overlook-

”-the hideous wickedness of this world.“ Both Mori and Honey are also deadly serious. Your breath catches in your throat.

"That’s what makes up the Ouran Host Club.” Tamaki announces, standing front and center.

“We’re here. Watch out.” He, the twins, and Honey chorus.

"Please don't hurt me! Spare my life!"

I’m a doctor, I have a small emergency medical clinic that I run in the next town over. My name is Yabu.” the man begins solemnly, suddenly feeling the urge to proclaim his life story.

“Did he say his name was Yabu?” Hikaru seems more calm now, having neutralized the threat.

“That’s crazy, what a terrible name for a doctor.”

“Unless you’re a quack!”

“I’m here because I was hoping to see my daughter. My wife left me last month and took my daughter with her but I know that she attends school here.” Yabu’s head is hanging in shame.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything but why did your wife and daughter leave you?”

Yabu explains with great detail and questionable impressions about the moment his wife and daughter left him and his clinic because of his poor behavior.

“And that was it. They left me forever. I know I’m terrible at managing our money and I can’t say no to anybody. I don’t blame them for being tired of constantly living in debt. But I wanted to see my daughter one more time, so I came here. After being pelted by rain and wandering the streets I finally made it to your school. Once I entered, I was mistaken for a doctor here students.”

“Well of course, you’re wearing a lab coat.” Hikaru points out. “Anyone would mistake you.” Kaoru adds.

“And then it happened…”

“When I tried to ask her about my daughter, the girl started screaming, and before I knew it, there were all kinds of people chasing me!” Yabu sobs loudly.

Tamaki kneels down in front of him, a river a tears streaming down his face, “That’s so tragic!” he sobs.

Kyoya sighs tiredly, “Dr. Yabu, I think you may have the wrong place. Are you looking for Ouran Public High School?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Yabu sniffles as he acknowledges Kyoya briefly.

“I figured that might be the case. This is Ouran Academy, a private institution."

“Your daughter doesn’t go here.” you shake your head gently to finish his assessment.

Yabu’s face drains and he goes pale.

“Man, that’s pretty sad, you don’t even know what school your daughter goes to?” Hikaru scoffs. “I’d bet your relationship is messed up because you don’t pay attention to her, not because of some stupid debt.” Kaoru snickers.

“Wow, Kyo-Chan, I’m impressed that you figure out he had the wrong school!” Honey marvels.

“Well, there’s no way the daughter of such a small time doctor, would ever be able to get into Ouran Academy.” Kyoya shrugs like he hasn’t just said something incredibly offensive. “Pleasant as ever.” you grumble.

Tamaki stands, suddenly solemn, “Kyoya, would you please find a map of all the public schools in this area? I’d like to help this man find his daughter.”

His tone is sincere and caring, and you smile fondly, as does Kyoya.

“Whatever you say.” Kyoya easily obeys to Tamaki’s whim, as anyone would.

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"I'm sure that after that interaction you're not anymore sold on doctors" Kyoya tried to make light of it all after everything had calmed down and sent the doctor on his way. You shook your head "No I can't say it has been much help"

The two of you watch out the window as Yabu wandered away from Ouran academy. "Kyoya?" he hummed for you to go on. "Thank you"

He shrugged "I already had a clinic set up for Haruhi all I had to do was talk with the doctor" he dismissed. You shake your head "It wasn't just that. You know it isn't, but don't worry, I won't tell anyone" You comment half jokingly, walking away to check on the host club.

Kyoya watched you as you walk away. You knew him better than he thought, when did that happen?

Things are starting to change.

Next time on patience 'Attack of the Lady Manager'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor

[nandysfix]

Like it's yours • PART II

Denki woke up unusually early the next day. His first alarm hadn’t even sound yet. He took on the liberty of taking extra time to get ready, maybe for once he would have breakfast.

The events of the previous night were eating him alive. He felt like shit for not having the courage to tell Sato about Shinsou and the picture.

It was just a dumb mistake, he didn’t want to hurt his boyfriend over something he didn’t mean and Shinsou definitely didn’t care.

It would be better for everybody involved if the subject was to never be touched ever again. 

But the way Hitoshi reacted was… There was no good way of putting it, it was better than Sato’s. 

He felt so good about himself, it really was a downer that his boyfriend didn't enjoy his idea on the same level. Or even as much as his classmate.

But he wasn’t ready to give up, that was one of Kaminari’s kinks, there should be something the both of them would share the same excitement.

Maybe panties was a bit too much for a first time, he should probably start slow. But how does one exactly starts slow?

Google.

“Communication is key” Kaminari sighed, fuck.

If there was a machine that would allow his boyfriend to read his mind and understand the things he wants to try out in bed, Denki would spend all the money he doesn’t have on it.

Sex was never a taboo for Kami, he and his friends talked about it openly all the time. But Sato was always so closed of in this matter, it made Denki feel vulnerable.

Not in a good way.

Sato would always praise him in bed, ask if he’s liking what he’s doing, but after sex they barely talk about it. 

But that was about to change, because Kaminari started to build up his confidence and courage to have an open conversation about fetishes. 

Once he arrived at campus he sent a message to his boyfriend:

Kami: Morning babe, are you free tonight?

Sato: Morning honey, yes I am. Why?

Kami: Come to my room at 8

There. No way of going back.

He arrived first in class, chose the best seat close to the windows, and started working on his sketchbook to warm up for class. 

After Kami started practicing drawing with Sero his abilities improved faster than ever before. Hanta has been drawing ever since he was eight, so he had plenty of techniques to share.

Denki was so focused on his warmup he didn’t even realize the class starting to fill up.

“Oi, Kaminari” He heard a familiar voice call. The same smooth, low pitched and clearly tired voice that used to give him butterflies years ago.

“Shinsou, hi” He smiles nervously, for the first time moving his eyes away from the sketchbook. 

Hitoshi looked beautiful, as always. His intense half-opened eyes and discreet smirk almost made Denki’s legs shake. 

Fuck. Would he say anything about last night?

“Here, the notes I told you about.” Hitoshi handed him a black notebook with white handmade doodles all over the back and cover. “Basically everything I did for the typography project is in there, so I hope it helps you.”

Kaminari looked at him surprised, picking up the book with both hands.

“Oh, thank you so much. It’s gonna help plenty.”

“Don’t worry. Is this seat taken?”

“No, go ahead” Denki watched as Hitoshi sat down by his side, picking up his materials from his messenger bag.

“So, can I see what you are working on?”

“Yeah sure.” 

Shinsou analyzed his drawings with a hand on his chin, making some funny comments and giving compliments. 

God, Kami forgot how much he liked to hangout with Hitoshi.

“Morning guys!” Sero arrived, sitting by their sides. “Hey Shinsou, nice having you with us man, what’s up?”

“Hey man” He said, answering Hanta’s handshake. “Yeah, it’s been too long since last time we spoke.” Hitoshi smiled softly. “Kaminari accidentally sent me a meme yesterday and we started talking again.”

For a split second Denki felt shivers running down his spine, as Shinsou boldly lied about their interaction the day before.

“That’s on brand, I keep telling him to pay more attention to what he’s doing on his phone or he’ll get himself in trouble one day.”

Shinsou chuckled, Kaminari wanted to die.

“But I’m glad he made that mistake, it’s nice talking to you again. How have things been?”

“Things have been nice. I opened a tattoo studio.”

“Sweet.”

“I actually invited you guys to come to the opening party, but Monoma stole your invitations.”

“What why?”

“Well, you see…”

Shinsou then proceeded to explain everything to Sero. How his ex was very manipulative, jealous, how that affected all of his friendships, and how he thought his friends were the ones that didn’t want to be his friends anymore. 

The three of them kept talking until the start of the class. It actually distracted Denki from the anxiety of having a serious conversation later that day.

After leaving the classroom, Sero said he was meeting Mina to help shooting her new choreography. Before Kami could leave as well, he felt a hand grab his arm.

“Den-Kaminari, can we talk? Wanna grab lunch?” 

He looked Shinsou in the eyes, knowing exactly what was to come. 

“Yeah, sure. I know a good udon-soba place, we can go there if it’s okay for you.”

“Sounds good.”

The restaurant wasn’t far from university, and miraculously not many students frequent the place. The prices were as low as any fast-service house, but the quality was far superior. 

Once they sat on a table, the one further from other customers, and asked for their meals, the awkward silence finally made itself present.

After two minutes of no conversation Kaminari was starting to prepare to just ask about the weather.

“i don’t mean to intrude, but i feel like im already involved.” 

Shinsou dropped, knowing full well both of them just wanted that awkward dance around the subject to end at once.

“You don’t need to answer me, I’m just really curious…” He paused, taking a deep breath. The suspense killing Denki inside-out. “Is your boyfriend okay with what happened last night? Is he mad at you? At me?”

“I didn’t tell him.” Kami answered truthfully, but ashamed. “I… I couldn’t bring myself to it.” He couldn’t even look Hitoshi in the eyes anymore, not with what he was about to ask. “It was a mistake and- I would actually really appreciate if you don’t mention this to anyone… ever.”

His eyes moved back to Hitoshi. He was prepared for every single reaction the other could have, and ready to beg if necessary.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I’ll never tell.” Shinsou answered, locking his eyes with Kami’s.

And after hearing those words, Kaminari’s whole body released the tension. Hitoshi could clearly see the change in his posture and watery eyes. 

Shinsou’s chest tightened.

“Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it. I think it’s better for both of us if this stays buried.”

That was a lie. 

“Yes, of course.”

That was also a lie.

Hitoshi looked like he still had too many questions in his head, but Kaminari didn’t think it was wise to ask.

The sooner this subject is done the better.

Before Shinsou could build up the courage to say whatever was going though his mind, the food arrived. 

And just like that the picture matter was forever in their past. Or so he thought. 

[starshipsofstarlord]

Online dating

darcy lewis x reader / masterlist

summary; darcy decides to try a dating app, least to say, the guy isn’t anything like his picture. and thus she ditches him, and finds someone else in a hot second / warnings; the oc guys in this fic are dicks, homophobia, darcy being bae, swearing, mentions of sex and cheating, mentions of joy x reader.

he was a polar opposite to what he had portrayed his online self to be, screw the internet! this date was truly tragic, darcy had plenty of things that she could be better using her time for, rather than sitting opposite this oaf, that was licking his unappealing lips, and staring at the waitress when he thought that she didn’t notice.

“huh?” the scientific doctor pulled her phone out, ushering a puzzled expression on her face as she stared at the blank screen. she of course recognised that no one was making any attempts to contact her, but he didn’t know that. “one second.” she held her finger up, bringing the phone to her ear as she blabbered into the speaker that was inherently catching nothing that she was saying.

“slow down jane.” darcy falsely ushered, using her hands to exaggerate the conversation in her head. she put the phone down, a facade of panic elaborating behind her spectacle adorned eyes as she grabbed her belongings in a frenzy, standing upright and out of her seat. “im so sorry, my friend has just hit some guy with her car and she needs some moral support. tonight is going to have to be cut extremely short.”

short was a relief, but the hopeful expression on this dude’s face wasn’t. perhaps it was cruel to leave this guy hanging, and well, she couldn’t blame him for wanting more, she sent him an awkward smile as he began to speak. “we should do this again some time - properly.” darcy wasn’t dumb, she noticed how his eyes sped to the side as the curvy waitress walked by.

“sure...” no, definitely not. darcy was well aware that she was wasting her time with this moron, she didn’t need a man, let alone a dweeb of one. a quick wave was all she bade him as she exited the coffee shop, only to become engrossed in a scene erupting on the local streets. there was a woman, flinging shirts, and a bra within the bundle that looked as though it was not her size, what was she thinking, clearly it wasn’t, at said example of figurative masculinity.

“screw you durkus!” any guy named ‘durkus’ was basically a label confirming that he was a dick. “i don’t need you, nor the next man! i am a well established woman who has done more for this country than you could ever know, you’re dust beneath my feet, a pathetic layer of residue that i want nothing more to brush off.” perhaps she was being harsh, but it sounded like he deserved it.

from the red lipstick, that the woman was not at all sporting, from the random bra that she had flung at her partner, it was a safe bet to assume that he had cheated on her. darcy plodded closer, listening whimsically in, and realising that her life was pretty calm, there were no longer asguardians or dark elves infiltrating her life, nor the work that she had attained to field in.

she had only recently earned herself the title of doctor, and it was frustrating that people would assume that she opted for a profession in a hospital room, or they would forget the professional endorsement all together, and address her as ‘miss lewis’. she was no one’s puppet, she had scaled herself up the ladder of her career to be where she was now, but another thing that she was alongside such a wave of potential was a feminist.

this dick was shouting in the streets, calling her inexplicable names such as a ‘whore’, and a ‘two faced bitch’. having the ability to hear the insults brew anger in her stomach, she couldn’t just stand there. “what are you going to do, turn into a complete lesbian?” now that was the last straw, it had darcy marching over, and promptly she shoved the guy, making him drop all the items that were grasped in the basket of his arms.

a flabbergasted ‘huh’ was riveted from him, and it made darcy smirk as she attuned his attention towards her; the stranger that had gotten involved in his public display of disrespect and homophobia. “how about you watch your damned mouth before i make sure you can’t open it again. and whilst you’re at it, get some new shirts, you’re not a model, unless you’re the kind that are put on prison pamphlets.”

“who the fuck are you?” he spat his saliva on the ground by darcy’s feet, establishing her with the information that her first impression of this dick had been correct. women just knew with this kind of thing, they could sense trouble from a mile away. “you know what, keep that crazy bitch. maybe you can help her store her katanas, and go on double dates with danny rand and his plus one. rather you than me.”

“don’t ask.” the woman shook her head, tired of the drama that durkus always seemed to bring. she had enough trouble, involving work and extracurricular night time activities, without him adding to them. darcy presented her with a sweet smile, picking up the box of random bits and bobs that was on the floor. “that’s just work stuff, i’m moving offices and as i came to collect some things from our apartment, and i found him- well let’s just say he wasn’t alone.”

“that was pretty easy to pick up on. how’d you not realise that you were dating a total sleaze?” she was blunt with her enquiry, though the woman shrugged, a guilty expression cowering upon your features, like an ashamed shadow. a small, attractive smile graced her lips, secrets hidden beneath the span of the expression.

“oh, i knew. i just had to pretend to be happy, so that my ex, or well now, my other ex joy would stop chastising me, claiming that i haven’t got over her. she’s so up her own ass sometimes and it drives me- shit, i’m sorry, you don’t know me, nor do you need to hear about my problems.” the y/h/c haired woman shook her head, stretching her hand out to miss lewis. “i’m y/n, thanks a bunch for helping me out back there.”

darcy accepted her handshake, completing the action as she smiled. “i’m darcy.” this woman didn’t need to know about her doctor title, in fact, darcy was keen on knowing everything about her instead. “so’d how you meet him?” referring to the person that had most recently became y/n’s ex. y/n was relieved that darcy had shown up, she was sure she’d have used her martial art training for more than composition; she’d have kicked durkus’ flat ass.

“on a dating app.” it was a normal answer, she wouldn’t share the intel that before that she had saved his ass whilst wearing a black hood, stopping him from getting mugged in the dead of night. perhaps she should have saved someone else that particular late evening. darcy couldn’t help but let a small laugh out, finding both their circumstances quite amusing. she was sure a similar situation would have unfolded if she had decided to regularly see the date that she ditched.

“online dating man, it sucks, am i right?” it had quite the reputation, for the two of them especially. “maybe we should just date each other.” she joked, though she was being partially serious. it felt right, they had bumped randomly into one another’s faulted situations on the same day, it almost felt like fate, though that subject was too cheesy to say aloud.

“well doctor lewis, i would not at all mind going on a date with you.” darcy frowned at the title that she had been called, pointing at the side of the woman’s jacket, that had a recyclable label stuck upon the material. “so you majored in science, if i am correct?” finally, someone got it! she could get used to that.

y/n did not appear as a deity nor a creature from another realm, she was normal. or so as far as the eye could tell, in fact, she did not suspect a thing from this woman, much less to be a defender of the earth that worked in a small and less know league than the avengers, yet still roamed the us to protect its people.

darcy though had won this battle for her though, giving her a moment of peace from fighting, and had idly sent durkus on his route far away. y/n could get used to not being the hero all the time, more so if this doctor was her knight in shining armour.

[cosmicpines]

code july day 1 - future

au where jeremie's anti-xana program didn't work, taking place half a year after.

“Do’ya think we should start future-proofing our whole situation?” Odd was the first one to speak out loud in at least a half an hour, his voice echoing around the computer lab.

It was late. Not just “it’s a school night, we should turn off the Playstation” late, but “sunrise is in an hour” late. Ulrich, Jeremie, and Aelita were crowded on the couch – a fairly new addition to the lab that William and Odd had dragged over a mile to the factory after finding it on the street, a several-hour long affair that left them both sore for a week – blearily staring at chunky school-loaned laptop screens with piles of overdue library books on the floor in front of them. Odd and William were across the room, hunched over an oversized posterboard, surrounded by an accoutrement of Odd’s art supplies and printed out sheets of paper. What was keeping them up was potentially world-ending, but not in the usual way; instead of an evil AI, it was a history project due at 10 AM.

It wasn’t entirely their fault they didn’t start earlier – saving the world was a full-time job, afterall – but it’s not like they could give an excuse to Mr. Fumet that he would have believed. As the clock ticked over to 4, the prospect of having to pull the trigger on a return trip to finish loomed over them. They had already done it once, blearily uploading PowerPoint slides to the supercomputer to save them, giving Yumi an apologetic phone call in the morning. She was used to the disorienting resets at this point, having done them for half a year after graduating and moving across the country, but they usually texted ahead of time to warn her. She was sympathetic over the phone – she always was – but she was definitely irritated about having to retake an exam. They didn’t want to put her through that again and, besides, they couldn’t exactly keep the poster board from getting erased to time.

“Future-proofing the fact half of us might fail history?” Ulrich grumbled in response from across the room, leaning against the armrest of the couch. His eyes were glazed over in a stupor as he clicked idly around on the screen.

“Ulrich, are you done with your slides yet?” Aelita spat at him, now that the silent spell was broken, “I want to start stitching them together.”

“Uh… no.” Ulrich glanced at her, subtly turning his screen away from her piercing gaze, “Gimme ten more minutes? I’m almost there.”

Aelita clicked her tongue, probably remembering the last promise of the slides “in ten minutes.” She turned to her left and nudged Jeremie, “How about you – oh my god, Jeremie, can you focus?”

“Huh?” He looked up, and guiltly alt-tabbed back to a blank PowerPoint slide. “Sorry, I was just… I had a breakthrough about the bug in the Skid and I was…” He trailed off under her glare, “Sorry.”

Aelita clutched the side of her head, groaning. “Is it too late to go back to living on Lyoko where I don’t have to care about World War I and don’t need sleep?”

“Me too, thanks.” William muttered at Odd’s side, aggressively erasing a sentence on the poster, “Being XANA’s slave was less painful than this.”

He let out a bitter laugh, then raised his head, half smirk fading at the frozen-in-terror looks on his friend’s faces, “Sorry. Too soon?”

Odd, as he so often did, interrupted the awkward silence before people could make it worse, “Future-proofing us, is what I meant. Thanks for asking!” Nobody humored him as the typing across the room started back up and William started writing again, “Look, I’m just saying; we’re not getting any younger.” He brandished a red marker, filling in bubble letters on the top of the poster, “Yumi graduated. We’ve only got a semester left at Kadic –,”

“Could just all repeat a year like I did.” William grimaced. “And might again.”

Ulrich snorted, “Odd and I are probably on track for that.”

“Cheers,” William said, raising his pencil like a glass, without looking up, “Join the failure club.”

“BUT,” Odd interrupted, “Assuming we don’t! Because this presentation is going to be incredible,” That one earned a snort from everyone in the room (which was fair), “We’ll need someone who can do our jobs if we have to leave the good fight. Lyoko Warriors, the Next Generation! Kadic’s Next Top Lyoko Warriors!” He chuckled at himself, standing up, “We should put an ad in the paper: ‘Want a challenging, world-altering job? Come down to the abandoned factory!’” He hummed to himself, tapping his chin, “Our criteria would have to be strict. Can you imagine getting someone like, I dunno, Johnny? So, Johnny. Please, tell me: what’s your greatest fear? Giant crabs, you say? Why yes, that’s both oddly specific and also a dealbreaker. Next!”

Odd looked up, laughing, waiting for his friends to join in – Ulrich telling him he was being dumb, Aelita offering some other students and joking with him about their interviews, William making a snide remark about how he didn’t get an interview, a silent, but appreciative smirk from Jeremie – but got nothing. Jeremie’s head was buried in his laptop, and Aelita was – Aelita was glaring at him?

“What?” He asked her, but she said nothing, just raised an eyebrow in a you know what’s wrong look. Odd clearly didn’t, and turned to Ulrich for a clue, but Ulrich wasn’t giving him anything; he was just back to sulking, staring at his laptop. Odd ran through what he said again in his head, trying to find the offending phrase, when William punched him in the leg. “Hey –,” Odd started, ready to give a snappy retort, before seeing William was urgently tapping at the poster, where he’d just written something. Odd crouched down to read it.

you’re upsetting jeremie.

Odd glanced back at Einstein across the room, whose face was impassive, just typing away. Looking closer, though, he could see Jeremie had all the appearances of someone trying valiantly to pretend they weren’t upset – hunched shoulders, scrunched up face, not a single glance away from the screen. Aelita had stopped glaring to put a hand on Jeremie’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

Ugh. Odd sighed, wondering if he would have to apologize for just trying to lighten the mood. How was anything he said upsetting to Jeremie? He reached over for a pencil to respond to William, scribbling down on the poster.

Can’t he take a joke?

idk. Guess he thinks you’re blaming him.

Blaming him?? For what???? bro when did I even say anything like that??

you didn’t. don’t bro me bro. not my fault

Odd underlined his first bro, giving William a smile. William rolled his eyes before rubbing out their conversation with an eraser. Odd turned back to his coloring job and took a breath, surprised to see it come in shaky. It’s not your fault he’s upset, he thought to himself, pulling the cap off his marker. It’s fine. He leaned over to finish his coloring before noticing his hands were shaking. He clenched them, angrily. It wasn’t his fault Jeremie was upset. He was fine. Not his fault if Jeremie wanted to over-react. He’ll get over it and… where were the scissors?

He dug around their supplies for them, then, picking up a pile of pictures of historic figures, streaked from the bad library printer, took a pair of trembling scissors to extracting them. They were nearly done. One more section and they’d be done. One more and they could go to bed and Jeremie would get over whatever he was upset about and it was fine and it would all go away and it was fine it wasn’t his fault and –

“I’m working as hard as I can,” Odd felt a bit in his stomach open up as Jeremie spoke in a quiet, bitter voice. Odd stared pointedly down at the poster, blinking rapidly to try and assuage the pressure building behind his eyes, “I know we screwed up by not finishing before Yumi graduated, okay? I’m just… It’s a lot to figure out and I’m trying?! Is that not enough for – No. No, I know it’s not enough – I know I’m keeping us from having a normal life and it’s my fault William had to repeat a year and… and I –,” Jeremie’s breath caught, and Odd finally dared to turn his eyes to him, seeing his friend aggressively rubbing his eyes under his glasses, “I – I don’t mean to – look! It’s hard, alright?! It’s hard and I – I’m just so tired all the time and I’m sorry that we’re still awake for this too and that I –,” His voice finally broke as he started crying in earnest, his fist coming down on the side of the couch. Odd wanted to turn back to his work and brush it off, but the guilt clenching his stomach wasn’t letting go.

Hesitantly, Aelita put her hand on his shoulder again, “Jeremie…” but he shook it off again, turning away from her. She persisted. “It’s not your fault. We know you’re working –,”

“And it’s not enough! I’ve been working at this for years and I just I can’t come up with anything to defeat XANA –,”

“You had a lot of other things you needed to do first.”

He didn’t mean to, Odd was sure, but Ulrich’s eyes flickered to William for just a moment, and William’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, are we doing this now?” William grumbled, dropping his pencil. “Jeremie, you’re fine. Look, I’m sorry. Again. You don’t think I don’t regret every moment that I didn’t listen like a fucking idiot –” Jeremie, despite being wracked with tears, winced at the swear, earning a brief hint of a smile from Odd, “ – and got myself captured? Who then was a thorn in your asses for months? No. I get it. You’d probably be rid of XANA already if it wasn’t for me; you’ve made that crystal clear.”

“That’s not what I –,” Aelita glared at him, “You of all people should understand that I would never blame you for being trapped on Lyoko.”

“It’s not you that is. It’s him.” He jerked his thumb at Ulrich, who glared back at him.

“I’m not,” Ulrich muttered, “Cut it out.”

“Oh yeah? What did that look mean then, huh?”

“I didn’t –,”

“You blame me, and we all know it. You’re just butt-hurt over Yumi still, even though you had plenty of chances –,”

“Okay, that’s it.” Ulrich sat up straighter, “Maybe you’re still using Yumi as a scapegoat in all our arguments, but I’m done with that. Maybe I was an ass to you before because of her, but I don’t blame you for XANA, William. I never have. I was over it before you even joined,” He scowled at the ground, Jeremie’s crying filling the brief silence. “It was probably my fault you got captured in the first place. I wasn’t there because I had to talk to my stupid Dad and it was my job to tell Odd and I didn’t make sure – hell, even before that! Who was it that couldn’t protect Aelita back when XANA escaped from the supercomputer in the first place? If she hadn’t been alone, the Scyphozoa wouldn’t have gotten her, and XANA wouldn’t have escaped, and we would have been done.”

“Come on,” Aelita crossed her arms, turning away from Jeremie to the boy on her other side, “You’re being ridiculous. Half of that isn’t your fault.”

Odd wanted to chime in that it was Sam’s fault she didn’t listen to Ulrich, but his voice was still missing in action, his throat tight and unresponsive.

“I should have been able to protect myself,” Aelita continued, “It wasn’t your responsibility –,”

Jeremie laughed suddenly, hurt and bitter, “Protect yourself how? You couldn’t protect yourself because I was dragging my feet on giving you a proper weapon –,”

“We’ve talked about this!” She said, “We agreed it was more worth your time to work on an antivirus!”

“For a virus that didn’t exist! If I had just double checked –,”

“Double checked what? The faulty data you were being fed? There was nothing you could have done! If you want to blame anyone, blame me. Maybe it – maybe helping me made sense at first, when things were able to be stopped at a moment’s notice. But then even when you got me to Earth it wasn’t over, and things got worse, things got more dangerous – when we realized XANA could escape? That we couldn’t just turn it off with a switch? That – that should have been it.” Her voice dropped as she took a shaky breath, “You should have just let me turn the supercomputer off.”

“You were ALWAYS worth the risk, Aelita!” Odd finally snapped, terror shooting through his heart at the broken look on her face, the implications of her words, “You… you matter to us more than anything! Look, I’m sorry for bringing this all up, alright? I thought we could just joke around about running Lyoko Warrior interviews! I didn’t mean to get everyone upset. And speaking of! Jeez! All of you are such downers on yourselves! There’s like, a billion different things that could have happened!” He held out a hand, ticking them off, “Maybe William might not have gotten captured and instead XANA got Yumi or anyone else! Maybe, I dunno, Ulrich saved Aelita temporarily but then XANA tossed him in the digital sea! Maybe Jeremie could have noticed that Aelita didn’t have a virus sooner, and XANA just made a move sooner! Maybe – maybe – maybe if you had just let Kiwi be virtualized normally and not fuse with me he would have been a great Lyoko Warrior and would have bit the Scyphozoa and killed XANA! We don’t know, alright? I’m just trying to say that – ugh, forget it! Sorry! Jeez!”

Odd rubbed at his eyes, surrendering to the frustrated and exhausted stream of tears that leaked out of them. All of them, all of this – he kept trying to play superhero, to pretend that everything was going to be alright like in the movies, but in his heart he had to admit that this was starting to feel futile. Aelita’s virus, XANA’s escape from the supercomputer, William’s capture, Jeremie’s first botched attempt at his anti-XANA program, Franz Hopper’s sacrifice, Yumi’s graduation, their failure to stop space station from falling, Jeremie’s second anti-XANA program getting stolen by the AI, and now the looming threat of their own graduation… he wanted to be joking about needing to interview new Lyoko Warriors, really, but if graduation took them away from the factory… away from each other…

A hand landed on his shoulder, he realized he didn’t need to know who it was to press his own on top of it, to squeeze it and feel loved, as more hands, more friends, found their way to his other shoulder, to his back.

“I’m sorry, Jeremie,” he said, “And everyone else. I didn’t mean to –,”

“Don’t,” came a muttered reply from Jeremie, “We’re all acting tired and stupid. I shouldn’t have yelled. I knew you didn’t mean it.”

Odd let out an exhausted laugh, rubbing his eyes of the last of the tears, looking up and seeing his friends around him, “How late is it?”

“Too late,” Ulrich replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket, “We’ve got… three hours until classes start.”

A collective groan broke the spell over the room. Odd looked under his feet to the almost-finished-poster. Silently, all of them returned to their working positions. Odd kneeled down to finish gluing down the last of the faces to the poster. As the lull of busy work started taking over his mind, William nudged him.

“Sorry, I, uh…” William looked uncharacteristically bewildered, “This must have happened while I was – did you say Kiwi fused with you?”

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (epilogue I)

word count; 4116

summary; after everything that happened, thomas just really wants to make sure everyone knows its official.

notes; you get a little bit more of thomas’ history here, but not much, just a sweet bonus.

warnings; not a one.

“Are you freaking out?”

“What? No, of course not. Why would I be freaking out? Because I’m meeting your mom?” You spoke too fast, your words slurring together a little, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself, Thomas’ brows raising silently as though so say ‘I told you so’ without actually saying it. “Totally fine. Just nervous, because it’s a big deal. A big deal that I told you we don’t have to take yet, you don’t have to rush me into meeting your mom just because of what happened the other month.”

Thomas picked up one of your hands, lifting it up to press a kiss to your palm before smoothing it over his cheek, undoing his seatbelt and leaning across the central dash towards you. Your fingers slipped up a little further, into his hair, and you tore your sights away from the care home in front of you to look more clearly at him. Pulling you a little closer with a hand on your jaw, his lips met your own.

Soft and slow, he kissed away your fears, his lips working with your own and tempting you into kissing him back as he pulled away your worries. His tongue teased over your lower lip, prompting you to lean a little further, nose bumping as you moved to the side, and your hand tightened in his hair. Parting your lips for him, he let out a breathy little whine against your lips, his tongue dragging across yours softly.

Trying to get a little closer, you pushed up into him, the safety belt locking across your chest, and you huffed out as your breath was forced from your lungs, jolting you away from Thomas as it pulled you back, a fraction of space between you both and he chuckled against your lips.

“Don’t be nervous, angel, she’s gonna’ love you.” He waited for a second, dipping down to press another kiss to your lips when you still hesitated, and his hand reached over, unclipping your seatbelt for you this time, so that you could press up into him. One hand settled behind your back, fingers dancing along your spine until it was sitting on your lower back, and you sighed against his mouth as he soothed you with slow kisses.

“Okay, okay. I’m ready. I think.” You placed a hand on his chest, pushing him backwards after a final kiss, and when his eyes fluttered open, lips a little darker pink than normal, he beamed at you, your confidence only growing with his gaze.

“That’s my girl.” He stepped out from the car, snatching the keys from the ignition and tucking them into his pocket, jogging around the car as you opened your door, and he took it from you, letting you step out of the car. Brushing down the skirt of your sundress, you frowned down at yourself, hoping that you looked presentable, and that the floral material hadn't gained any major wrinkles from the drive over, still wanting to look smart when you met Thomas’ mother. “You look beautiful, and you changed your dress, like, three times, but you were gorgeous in all of them. You look perfect.”

He was holding up your cardigan, letting you turn around to slip your arms into it, sealing the pastel-coloured material over your shoulders, and rubbing lightly at your upper arms when you twisted to face him again. He moved around to the trunk, the back already open as he’d fetched your cardigan while you were adjusting your dress, and you followed him to the back.

Inside was your bag, alongside the picnic basket the two of you had constructed and packed this morning, and a rolled-up blanket on top, surrounded by the various other items Thomas had in his trunk. Taking your bag, you placed it on your shoulder, shuffling through it to check you had everything, and taking out the sunglasses of Thomas’ that you’d put in there, unfolding them and placing them on the bridge of his nose, a soft smile on his lips when you did.

He paused, leaning in to press a delicate kiss to your forehead for the gesture, before pushing them up to sit on the top of his head, for now. “You’re supposed to be making me feel better, but now you seem all nervous and it's making me jittery again.”

Your joke was a little unsteady, and Thomas let out a weak laugh, his hand settling on your hips as he turned to face you, back to the sun, and tall stature blocking your eyes from staring into the rays. “There’s just this one thing, before we go in. It's something for you, I don’t think it can really count as a gift because it was about a dollar from Walmart when I was getting ingredients, so..” His words trailed off, and he reached behind himself, plucking a white-wood frame from inside, and handing it to you.

“A picture frame?” His jaw dropped slightly, working out how to explain whatever was going on inside his mind, and you stepped a little closer. “You want to put me on your picture wall?”

“No.” He huffed, a frown forming on your face. “Well, yes, obviously. But, those are my public pictures. Those are the ones visitors see, and I want one of you up there, with Newt and Brenda and the team, maybe one of you and my mom, but not with this frame.” He lifted one hand from your waist, running a finger along the edge, while staring down at it. “This is a new frame. I’ve never had a picture on my bedside table before, but I was thinking we could take one, and put it there.”

His voice went quiet, turning to a whisper that was barely audible as he went on, before he was eventually, and you took the frame, reaching past him, your body pressing to his as you let it fall back into the trunk of the car. His arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you flush up to him, and you let out a low series of giggles as your arms looped his neck. Pulling him down, you dragged your lips over his, a groan of impatience from Thomas making you close the gap, his lips meeting yours.  

Brushing your fingers through his hair, he relaxed, sagging into you slightly as you untangled the locks gently as your mouths meshed together, before you were pulling back for breath, sharing the air between you in shallow pants.

“I love you, Thomas.”

He stiffened again for a second, before he was pecking your lips quickly, stealing another kiss, and another, and another, making you laugh against him as he kissed you quickly, fingers tickling at your sides as he hugged you impossibly close, his own face breaking with a grin and making it impossible for him to continue kissing you. “Do you mean that?”

“Totally. I’ve known it for a couple of weeks now, but I wanted to wait until it meant something more than just telling you at work or after  dinner.”

“There’s plenty of nights you could have told me you loved me, when we were making love.” He was overly proud of his joke, smirking widely, and you reached your hand up higher, knocking his sunglasses down into his face and laughing at the protesting noise he made. You stepped back out of his face, detangling yourself from beside him, and he was still busily cracking up over it, his hand crossing over his chest as he laughed loudly, only spurred by your reaction.

You tucked the blanket under your arm, grabbing the basket, and walking away from the man who was losing it laughing by his car still, and walking toward the building. The trunk slammed shut, the car chirping as it locked, and you heard Thomas’ feet scraping against the tarmac as he jogged to catch up with you. His hand closed over yours, cooing in your ear as he took the basket from you.

“Oh, c’mon, baby. That was a good joke, admit it.” You scoffed, his laughter continuing. “Wait, wait, wait. Just hold on, before we go in.” He brought you to a stop, adjusting his glasses on his face, eyes blacked for yours, but you could imagine the look on them as his cheeky expression smoothed out into something more genuine. “I love you.”

“Yeah, well, I love you too. For some stupid reason, because you make dumb jokes about sex right before I meet your mother.” Your smile was finally cracking through, unable to be held back any longer, and he beamed as he saw it, shifting the basket to the other hand and weaving his finger switch your own.

As you walked into the main building, his thumb played with yours, and he greeted the older woman behind the desk like she was an old friend, her eyes lighting up a little as she saw him. He made introductions while he scribbled down his information in the visitor sign-in book before himself, chatting about the woman’s kids with her, his hand never letting go of your own, until you needed to fill in the paper yourself.

As you did, he handed over the picnic basket to the woman, who lifted the lid, sifting through the contents all while keeping the conversation going, the security checks that left Thomas unfazed, and now you realised why he’d insisted on not bringing your own cutlery to go with it all, because it surely would have been taken off of you. You gave her your bag, too, only your phone and wallet inside, before Thomas was giving you the car keys to add to the collection, and you were gathering it all back up, and being pointed through to the main corridors.

He didn’t need a guide, clearly knowing where he was going, and told that his mother was waiting for you both in the common room, last seen winning her third game of chess in a row. You were nervous again, gripping onto Thomas’ hand a little tighter, and he squeezed back, pressing a kiss to your temple in a silent notion of security and faith, encouragement in your task, as he guided you through the halls.

You weren’t so worried that she’d hate you; if the way Thomas had been raised was anything to go on, once you’d moved past that difficult stage, he’d been nothing but loyal and friendly, and so you knew she’d raised him well, indicating she wasn’t someone to fear herself. What you were nervous about was a reputation that preceded you, you were nervous that you wouldn't live up to an image she already had of you, that Thomas had told her excessively good things and you were going to be underwhelming, or worse, that she just wouldn't think you were as good as other’s who’d come before.

You couldn't help it, you wanted to make a good first impression.

As soon as you rounded the corner, you could spot her. She looked just like her son. The same warm caramel eyes and sweet smile, moles dotted along pale skin and hair that was much like Thomas’, except longer, a little duller, and sitting in wavy curls to her shoulders, untamed from her morning’s activities.

“Okay, I lied. I’m freaking out a little bit.” You whispered, coming to a stop slightly in the entrance of the main room, and Thomas came to stand in front of you, his hands landing on your arms to rub lightly, and you let out a weak laugh at the gesture. He used a single finger to tip your face back up to look at him, his eyes wide and honest as you found them, and he gave you a soft smile.

“Stop freaking out. It’s not like you. You normally dive headfirst into situations.”

“You told me to stop doing that.” You mumbled, and he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head when you glanced down, staring at your feet and glaring at a scuff on your shoes you hadn't noticed until now.

“Only when your life is in danger. With this, you just need to get out of your head. C’mon, look at me?” You sighed through your nose, hesitating for a second, before looking up to the man before you, slightly taller and blocking out the main lighting of the room, so you didn’t have to squint at him. “You’re great, okay? You’re amazing, and you're smart and funny. She’s gonna’ love you, because I love you.”

“Okay. You’re right.” He waited, a cheeky look on his face, making the most of those three words now he knew he’d hear them back, and his face split in a toothy grin as he stared expectantly. “And I love you too.”

“I also love you too, so are you gonna’ greet your mom yet?”

You jumped, rather harshly at the sudden voice, Thomas’ face changing into one of more nostalgic joy as he let go and turned around to face his mother, and your face flushed with heat, unsure of when she’d made her way over, or even noticed the two of you. He wrapped her up, holding her tight as he greeted her, and she rubbed his back soothingly in return, her stature much like your own, her son towering over the both of you. When they pulled back, she reached up, patting his cheek with a large smile, before looking over him. The motherly glance told you all you needed to know, she was judging how well he was taking care of himself, and if he was staying healthy, seemingly happy with her judgement as her hand slipped to his shoulder, before turning away as she moved to greet you, instead.

Her sights moved over you, too, her smile never faltering, and you didn’t feel judged by her. Instead, you felt a sense of warmth and love as she treated you the same as she had treated Thomas, looking over you to make sure you were well, and taking in the details of the flowers on your dress.

“Mom, this is my girlfriend. (Y/N).” Thomas’ hand slipped down, finding yours once again and squeezing lightly, an unspoken piece of reassurance, and she glanced to her son, raising a brow at him.

“Well, I should hope so. It’d be awfully awkward if you’d brought anyone else.”

Thomas sighed, rolling his eyes, but he couldn't help the smile breaking on his face, even as he tried to bite it away on the inside of his cheek. “Alright, alright. I’m just trying to make introductions.” He mumbled, his mother swatting at his arm lightly, and he gave in, waving a vague hand between you and her. “(Y/N), this is my very sarcastic mother.”

“Hi, Mrs Stephens.” You greeted, heart thudding in your chest, and you held out your other hand, her palm sliding against yours quickly as she accepted the greeting, shaking firmly and letting it go as she smiled.

“You don’t have to call me that, I haven’t been ‘Mrs Stephens’ since Thomas’ dad was still in the picture, you can just call me Beth.”

Thomas cleared his throat, not wanting the mention of his father to bring anything down when you’d only nodded silently, like he could sense the apology on your tongue that was about to fall. “Alright, well, now that's out of the way, shall we find somewhere to sit? I don’t want all the icepacks to melt and let the food get warm.”

“Does he do this to you at home, too? He’s so picky about his food, like he’s that angry Gary man from the television. Like he’s a star chef.”

“Are you talking about Gordon Ramsey? Oh my God.” He scoffed, eyes narrowing on you when you laughed at him, and he nodded his head roughly to make his sunglasses fall down, until they were sitting on the bring of his nose instead of buried in soft strands of hair. “I’m nothing like Gordon Ramsey, okay? I didn’t even cook all of this food, we cooked together. I’m just hungry, and not a fan of warm pasta salad.”

“Bossy, bossy, bossy. You’re not the lieutenant here, son.”

“He thinks he is, though.” You leaned in to whisper the words to his mother as she fell into step beside you, letting you be tugged along a little by Thomas’ grip on your hand, and you both chuckled a little at the sound of protest he let out.

“Yeah, well, Thomas doesn’t like having that control-freak authority challenged. You’re good for him that way.” Your cheeks flushed a little again, and you were grateful to the sun shining down overhead from the second you’d stepped out onto the patio to disguise it as simply a blush from the heat. “I’ve been rooting for the two of you since the day he came to visit me and spent the whole time complaining about ‘that new girl, she’s so reckless and stupid and brave, it’s irritating that she’s always right’.

“Well, I’m not always right. I was wrong about your son, at first.”

“Well, he wasn’t the most welcoming. Little Newt from across the road spun quite the tale of your first meeting when he called me.” Your heart jumped in your chest a little at her reference of your partner, in her mind still picturing a scrappy little blond boy with skinned knees and a bright smile, no doubt.

“You and Newt are just alike.” You teased, Thomas chuckling slightly as he guided you both quietly towards the steps and down to the grass of the gardens.

“We are? How’s that?” Your hand came up to sit over your eyes as the sun shone brightly in the centre of the sky, and you shrugged, glancing around at the beautiful scenery as you walked, trying to find your words.

“Just that you and he both seemed to be rooting for me and Tommy long before we even realised what we were.” You turned to face Thomas at the questioning noise he made, squinting at him slightly through the sun, and shrugging. “It’s true, he saw ‘us’ in us long before we ever did, and he told me so.”

Thomas lifted down his sunglasses, placing them on your face instead, adjusting them with one finger and switching the basket from one hand to the other, his head ducked while you thanked him.

“One afternoon in the ambulance, months ago. It was that day I set him up with Derek. He told me he was glad I didn’t have a date with Derek, because he had someone else in mind for me.” Thomas’ lips pressed together, smiling after a second, and he let go of your hand to step down over one of the ridges in the grass. Placing the basket down, he helped his mother over the dip, and then you, pausing to pick the food back up.

“You’ve never told me that.”

“I figured Newt did.”

“That boy has always been a little trickster, he used to help Thomas sneak out when they were teens.” Thomas’ mother tutted, and you gasped, turning to her.

“I always thought Thomas would have been a goody-two-shoes when he was younger!”

“Mom, please don’t tell her anything embarrassing.” You shushed him, waving a hand in his direction and focusing on his mother, who was smirking wickedly at her son, but looking at you, clearly trying to choose which story she wanted to tell you first.

“There’s so many to tell. Especially the things the two of them got up to while sneaking out.” She tutted, frowning at her son as she relived them, and he stuck his tongue out childishly. “Once, he was delivered home to my doorstep, drunk as a skunk when he was seventeen because he’d been drinking at a party, and I thought he was upstairs in his room, music playing.”

“Oh, that sounds awful.” You cringed, turning to look at Thomas, who was pointedly staring ahead, mock-anger making a poor attempt at hiding the amusement on his face.

“Also, Thomas once got so nervous about impressing the girl he was taking to junior prom, he sweated through his shirt and had to change before her mom dropped her off.”

“Mom!” Thomas was blushing now, cheeks red and eyes wide, and the older woman burst out with laughter, Thomas’ cheeks burning crimson as you turned to him, and she continued wandering ahead when you and Thomas slowed to a slight halt. “I didn’t sweat right through my shirt, I was just nervous about smelling bad, so I changed.”

He was pouting, and you leaned up, pecking his lips quickly, and his resolve was slowly dying. “I think it’s cute. Though, I am moderately offended that I’ve never made you nervous enough to change a sweaty shirt.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a grown-up now.” His chest puffed out slightly, and he turned to find his mother, who was looking down at the grass, the wind blowing the flowers that were growing in the grass, before his attention was back on you. The breeze allowed loose tendrils of hair to flitter down into your face, and he pushed them back into place to stay behind your ears, a softer expression taking over. “Besides, I’m a fireman. I’m always sweaty, you’d never have noticed.”

You rolled your eyes, his head dipping to let his lips brush against his forehead, before his mother was clearing her throat delicately. “I think this is a good spot. Not too hot, not too cold, not too windy. Not too far from the house that the orderlies get mad.” She scoffed the final part, flipping off the big house you’d all wandered away from, and you hadn't realised just how far you’d come from it, approaching the tree-line near the edges.

Thomas held the basket still had you tugged the blanket free from under the straps, and you wandered over to his mother. She took half of it, helping you to lay it down on the grass, smoothing it out carefully, and finding some rocks to pin it down with. You could only find two, and so Thomas used the basket for one corner, and his jacket bundled up with your cardigan for the other, before he was sitting down.

Crossing his legs and lifting up the lid, his mother sat opposite him, legs stretched out before herself as she started up at the tops of the trees, swaying in the light breeze with birds coming and going. Just as you were kneeling down, Thomas groaned, looking through the basket and beginning to unpack things, before he was looking back at you both.

“We forgot the cutlery, we were supposed to pick it up at the house because you can’t bring it in.” He sighed, shoulders slumping a little. “I’ll go grab some, I’ll be real quick.”

“I’ll go.” Thomas paused, staring up at you from where he’d been halfway to his feet, and you stood back up fully, brushing off your dress a little.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course. You stay, it’ll only take a few minutes.” He still looked a little doubtful, glancing back to the house that looked brother small from this distance, then back to you. Taking your bag from the pile of jackets, you placed it on your shoulder, patting it securely. “If I get lost, I’ll call you to come find me.”

“No smoke and fire, it’ll be a welcome relief to find you when our lives aren’t on the line.” It was a crude joke, and you scoffed, his mother chastising him while ruffling his hair, and he laughed his complaints out to the both of you while swatting her away. You took a few steps away from the pair, beginning your walk back up to the house, leaving the pair to talk as Thomas continued to unpack the basket’s contents.

Turning to look at them when you were only a few feet away, Thomas’ mother was pinching at his cheek, and he was blushing slightly, spreading out three plates on the blanket and avoiding her gaze. “You really like her, Thomas. She makes you happy.”

You didn’t want to eavesdrop, you didn’t intend to, and you doubted either of them knew you could still hear them, and so you tried not to look at them as you continued walking, but Thomas’ gentle chuckle still reached you. “Yeah, mom, she does. I think she might, y’know, be the one.”

[autumnsart22]

Flat Tire: Suna x fem reader

SMUT 🔥🔥

This is technically a part 3 of First time in College: Suna x reader, but I decided to make it a stand alone. You can read the other parts if you’re interested. Also, I left the ending kind of open, so I would be super happy to continue it if anyone wants me to...

P.S. I feel like it’s rare to have someone look this fine when it’s NOT EVEN FANART BRUHHHH

Suna was late to pick you up for your “date” (was it a date? He hadn’t made it particularly clear), which wasn’t a good sign. You had spent the hours after your class at 3 pacing around, trying to figure out what outfit to wear, and questioning your whole existence. Your roommate, Kiyoko, didn’t make things any better. When you had explained how you had met Suna at the frat party, how sweet he had seemed, her mouth had dropped and her eye practically popped out of her head. 

“Out of every guy you could have picked, you chose Suna Rintarou?” She sighed, burying her face in her hands. 

“What? Is he...bad?” You asked, suddenly nervous. You liked Suna, from the amount you knew about him. He seemed like he was pretty arrogant, and also kind of lazy, but he was nice to talk to. You knew you’d be disappointed if he ended up being a piece of shit. 

“He’s just...you know…” Kiyoko was clearly trying to find a way to phrase it. “He’s ditched a lot of different girls, sleeping around and then never speaking to them again, that sort of thing. Typical frat boy behavior.” 

You sighed, since it was exactly what you expected. “Well, it’s fine. We’re just going to eat, so I’ll just get it over with and then be out of his life.” 

“Ok. I just don’t want you getting hurt.” 

You waved her off. “I know, I know. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, six o’clock came and went, and no sign of Suna; suddenly, despite my dismissal, “getting hurt” seemed like a distinct possibility. By 6:30, you ditched your shoes and coat, crashing on your bed and starting the newest episode of Attack on Titan. Fuck Suna and his dumb pretty face. You were good with Levi. 

Halfway through the episode, there was a knock at your door, and your muscles tensed so suddenly that your neck twinged. 

“Uh, who is it?” You yelled as you rolled out of bed, stumbling to the door. 

“Su--” You opened it and blinked up at the guy outside in shock. “--na.” 

“Oh.” You raised your eyebrows. He was wearing black pants and a black crewneck, a white collared shirt underneath. 

“Hi,” he panted, completely out of breath. “Sorry.” 

You snorted. “Um. It’s late.” 

“I got lost.” 

“Did you now?” 

“And I had to go back home to change.” 

“You could have texted me!”

“...I don’t have your number.” 

You opened your mouth, but you had nothing to say to that. “Well, fuck,” you muttered, turning away. 

“Sorry. You’ll still come to eat though, right?” 

You wanted to curse him out for making you wait so long, for making you think he ditched you for the night and forgot. 

“Fine. But you’re a dick.” 

He grinned lazily, leaning in the door frame as you grabbed your shoes and jacket again, scooping up your purse as you exited your dorm. 

“What?” You said as you finally approached him, blushing as you met his eyes despite how hard you tried not to. 

“Nothing.” 

He led the way to his car in silence, and it was a strange mix of awkward and comfortable. Suna didn’t seem like the type to be super talkative, but at the same time you felt like you should be making conversation. 

When you got to his car, you took a deep breath to calm yourself down before sliding into the passenger seat. Of course, the whole car smelled like weed, but it wasn’t overwhelming and honestly kind of nice.

“So, you’re a freshman?” He asked, pulling out of the lot, and you nodded. 

“Are you?” 

“Sophomore.” 

“What’s your major?” 

“Undecided, but I enjoy photography. Not the best career path though…” 

“Wait, that's really cool.” You glanced at him, impressed. “What do you take pictures of?” 

“Anything, but people mostly.” 

“You’ll have to show me some time.” 

“Only if you forgive me for being late.” 

You crossed your arms, snorting. “Fine.” 

The car suddenly jerked, and you gasped as you heard a rush of air coming from the rear. 

“Oh...fuck,” Suna muttered, pulling off to the side of the road. “I think we just got a flat tire.” 

“How????” 

“How am I supposed to know?” 

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Do you want me to call someone?” 

“Hang on, I might be able to…” He hopped out of the car before finishing, and you sat in silence as you heard him walking around to examine the damage. A moment later, he re-entered the driver's side with an annoyed expression on his face. “Yeah, it’s flat. Shit.” 

“What are we going to do?”

“My friend has a spare tire, but it might take him a bit to get here. Are you ok with waiting?”

You shrugged. “Sure.” 

“Sorry, this is the worst night ever.” 

“It’s not your fault. We can just hang out until your friend gets here.”

Suna’s expression didn’t change, but you thought you saw his shoulders relax a little. In the darkness of the car, you couldn’t help but admire his profile as he turned off the car and shoved his hair back from his face. 

“What?” He said, turning to look at you, and you went beat red. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re looking at me.” 

“N-no.” 

“Really?” He smirked, leaning towards you slightly. 

Your heart stuttered, practically stopping at you stared into his pretty yellow eyes. Oh my god...

“I--” 

Before you could answer, Suna sat back, still smirking. A car drove past you on the dark street and you used the momentary distraction to try and get ahold of yourself. 

“So, what do you want to do?” Suna asked, and you looked over at him again. 

“You say that like we have another option besides just sitting here.” 

He shrugged, pulling a THC pen from his pocket and holding it out to you. You took it from him, hitting it twice before handing it back. 

“What’s your major?” He asked, holding the pen to his lips. 

“Political economics right now, but I’m considering switching to english since I like writing.” 

“What do you write?” 

“All kinds of things, although mostly short stories. I’ve been working on my second novel too, and the first draft is almost done. It’s really shitty right now, but hopefully once I go back and edit it…” 

You paused, suddenly embarrassed. Were you rambling? You could talk about writing all day, but most people didn’t care enough to keep listening beyond the first sentence. 

“Yeah?” Suna said, waiting for you to finish.

“Oh. That was it.” You glanced away, waiting for a subject change. 

“What’s your novel about?” He paused, laughing under his breath. “I can’t believe you wrote a fucking book. That’s so sick.”

You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your face, and you covered your mouth with your hand. “Ok, short version--” 

“Short version? Why? We’ve got plenty of time.” 

You opened your mouth, and then paused. No one actually ever asked to hear about your writing beyond just the basic formalities, and you couldn’t believe how happy it made you feel that someone seemed genuinely interested. 

Deciding to abandon all pretenses, you jumped into a long scale explanation of the plot you were writing, all while Suna watched your face intently. 

“...And yeah! That’s basically it,” you finished finally, smiling brightly at him. “Sorry if that was super boring, I didn’t mean to…” 

“Can I read it when you finish? I’m invested.” He took another hit off the pen while watching you, and you smiled to yourself. How was this boy saying all the right things? Fuck. 

“I suppose.” 

“You suppose?”

“Depends on my mood.” 

“What can I do to guarantee you’ll let me read?” He reached over to grab your chin, stroking your cheeks gently with his thumb, and your breathing hitched. “Ha, you’re cute when you’re all red like this.” 

You snorted, but didn’t pull away. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.” 

“Really?” He leaned closer to you, until your faces were only inches apart in the darkness.

“N-no.” Your heart thundered. 

“Hm,” He murmured. “I’ll have to try to change that.” 

And then he was pressing your body back into the seat and kissing you hard on the mouth. 

 Oh my god, it was heaven. He tasted like minty chapstick and weed, and you sighed, your mind going blank. 

His long fingers tangled in your hair, dragging you closer, and a low noise came from his chest as you opened your mouth. You pulled away after a long minute, gasping, which only prompted Suna to trail open mouthed kisses down your neck. 

You leaned your head back to give him easier access, letting out an embarrassing noise as his hand slid under your shirt to trace the skin of your stomach. 

You weren’t a virgin, but you had only had sex with one person--your previous boyfriend--and it had been less than satisfactory the few times you had done it. Apparently you had missed the physical contact more than you thought. 

You sat up, and Suna pulled away, his eyes a little glazed over and his hair messed up. God damn, he was fine. 

He smiled slowly as your eyes trailed down his chest to his crotch, and he slid his seat all the way back so there was enough room for you to crawl into his lap. 

It was awkward, and you slammed your head on the roof of the car hard enough to make you yelp in pain as you tried to maneuver over to him. But any embarrassment you might have felt washed away as he burst out laughing and kissed you gently on the mouth. 

You tugged at his shirt in annoyance, suddenly pissed that it was still in place, and he awkwardly pulled over his head. 

“Pushy,” he muttered, and you flicked him hard on the forehead. 

“Dick.” 

“No need to beg, sweetheart. You’ll get it soon.” 

You swallowed hard and your thighs clenched in anticipation, even as you rolled your eyes. 

Any annoyance you had flew from your head as he slipped a hand down your pants, the other coming up to tangle in your hair. Instead of touching you where you needed him to, he traced along your inner thighs, kissing your collarbone. 

“Suna,” you mumbled, suddenly impatient as you shifted your hips, and he grinned into your skin before you felt his fingers shove the thin fabric of your underwear aside. 

“Oh go--”  Your eyes rolled back as he slowly eased a digit into you, wiggling it as he slowly widened you up. 

“S-Shit,” you gasped, your hands grasping at his shirt as he added another finger, circling his thumb at the same time on your clit. 

“You’re already so fucking wet,” Suna grunted, kissing up your neck as you began to roll your hips, riding his hand. 

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, but he grinned wickedly and immediately pulled his hand from your pants. Your eyes widened in outrage, but you stopped when he held up his fingers, covered in your juices, and shoved them in his mouth. You almost came from the sight, clenching around nothing as your heart stuttered. 

“Fuck, you taste good,” he mumbled, and you felt his dick twitch beneath you. It was hard as a rock in his pants, and you could feel it straining against the fabric. It was pretty big, if the bulge was evidence enough. 

You quickly fumbled to get his zipper open, needing to have him inside you right now. His fingers were good, but you needed... 

Suna smacked your hands away. “Take off your pants,” he ordered, and you obliged, choosing to ignore how hot you got at his commanding tone. You could unpack that later. 

It was a struggle to get the fabric off in the small space, but finally you were back in his lap, and he was holding your hips, and his (long) cock was free of his pants. You reached down, stroking it slowly and rubbing your thumb gently across the tip, spreading the precum that had gathered already. 

“Jesus christ,” Suna said, his voice strained, and he twitched in your hand. 

“Jesus wouldn’t appreciate his name being used in this context.” 

“He’d be jealous of me right now.” 

“You’re definitely going to hell for that.” 

“And you’re not? You little slut.” Suna shoved his fingers in your mouth while his other hand fumbled with a condom which he tugged from his pocket. He slid it down over his length with expert speed, clearly having done this many times before, but you shoved the thought from your mind.

Suna held your hips tightly as you positioned yourself over him, helping you as you eased yourself down onto his dick. He was larger than your last boyfriend, and it burned for a moment as you adjusted to his size, but Suna held your face and stroked your hair as you breathed through it. “You’re such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” he groaned in your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight.” 

His praise made you clench around him, the pain easing away, and you rolled your hips experimentally. The friction on your clit and almost made you cum right away, and you let out a moan into his neck as your head dropped onto his shoulder. Holy motherfucking shit how did it feel so good...

Suna buried his face in your chest as you began to ride him, shifting your hips slowly as you felt his full length hitting points you didn’t even know existed. When he ran his tongue along your nipple, you let out an embarrassing noise and fucked him faster. 

Your legs began to burn, but Suna took over easily, thrusting up into you while you held onto his shoulders. Your moans and the sound of sex filled the car, and your hand slid across the fogged glass of the window as you grasped for anything to hold onto. You were so close to coming, you could feel it all the way down to your toes. 

“You’re doing so good, baby, you feel so good,” Suna groaned, reaching down to rub your clit, his tongue circling your nipple at the same time, and with his voice in your ear, it was enough to finally send you over the edge. You clenched around him, your mouth opening in a silent scream as you came hard all over his cock.  It was easily the best orgasm you’d had during sex, possibly the best ever. Suna didn’t take his eyes off you as you came apart, relishing in how it was him who put that expression on your face, and how only he was seeing you like this right now. 

“And you said flattery doesn’t work on you,” Suna laughed, but you couldn’t even make yourself glare at him. 

“Idiot.” 

You panted as you came down from your high, but Suna still wasn’t finished. You could tell he was getting close by the way his pace picked up and how he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust up into you. His groans were deep and sexy in your ear, making your overstimulated clit throb as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders. 

“F-fuckkkk…” He panted, kissing you again and shoving his tongue in your mouth. He held onto your hair, tangled around his fist, forcing you to lean your head back as he created hickies all along your throat.

He finally came with a groan, his cock twitching as he held onto you tightly, head falling on your shoulder. You both stilled, panting, and you couldn’t help the slow smile that tugged at your lips. For a moment you were too tired to move as you felt his dick soften inside you, so you gently stroked his hair instead. 

“Are you ok?” He murmured, finally lifting his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks were flushed, his hair a wreck, but you were sure you didn’t look much better. 

“I’m great,” you said, smiling. “Are you?”

 Suna blinked, looking dazed for a moment, but he nodded. 

You shifted, trying to get off his lap in the most graceful way possible, but your back slammed against the wheel and the car honked loudly. 

“Jesus!” You cursed, flinching, and Suna rolled his eyes. 

“You just woke the whole neighborhood.” 

“Ugh,” you glared at him as you pulled on your pants, readjusting your shirt to cover your chest once again. 

The car suddenly lit up as headlights pulled up behind you, and you whirled to face Suna. 

“Is that your friend? Wait, where’s your shirt?!” 

He wasn’t listening, casually tugging it over his head as he opened the driver’s side door. You heard a door slam from behind you, and then a guy with grey hair and dark tips leaned down to wave at you from Suna’s side. 

“Hi. Sorry it took so long, but I have the tire.” 

“Thanks,” Suna nodded, and then gestured to you. “Kita, this is Y/n L/n. Y/n, this is my friend Kita Shinsuke.” 

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you said, but you felt your stomach drop as Kita’s eyes went to the fogged windows, where your hand print was still visible. 

“Yeah…” He raised his eyebrows. “Nice to meet you too.” 

Suna crossed his arms, looking bored. “Wanna help me change the tire?” 

The two boys left you alone as they went to swap out the flat, and you worked on trying to get your face to stop burning. By the time Suna finally got back, you felt decently less embarrassed; he probably did this all the time, so for Kita, it was definitely nothing new. He probably wouldn’t even remember your name. 

“Hey,” you looked over at Suna in surprise as he slid back into the driver’s seat and gently grabbed your face, kissing you slowly. 

“What was that for?” You sighed when he pulled away. 

He shrugged, smirking. “Are you still hungry?” 

Part 1 

Part 2

[sideblogformindtrash]

SUMMER OF WHUMP - DAY 4 - ABANDONED

Mind the huge cw. Is mostly just discussing it, but still.

CW: Insinuated no-con; past-abuse; relieving past trauma; abandonment; very low self esteem; humiliation; accidental triggering; bait dog; whipping; starvation; shoved in luggage bag; bitten by mice; gross food; claustrophobia; burns; no-con drugging; no-con touching; mentioned amputation; pet whump; multiple whumpers; human trafficking; muzzle; starvation; neglect; manhandling; cruel/intimate/neglectful whumpers;

“H-hello and welcome to BB’s and Pastel’s show!” ...Pastel turned the octopus plush around as BB turned the camera on. It went from a pink, smiley octopus, to it’s frowning gray insides. Pastel pulled the blankets over his head, leaving only his eyes out “...I’ll be your host, BB, and this is my assistant, Mr.Tonsils!”

BB lifts Mr.Tonsils in front of the camera, waiving his little furry paws so he can say hello to their audience. They pick up the camera, and take it to the bed with Pastel, capturing his pretty pink-ish eyes. 

“C-come on Pastel! Say hi!”

Pastel shifts slightly under the blanket.

“I’m… Not a fan of cameras, BB'' his voice is just a whisper, as he twists the blanket. BB thinks he is kneeling “...I’ll just… be your audience today, okay?”

“O-oH! Sorry!” BB stepped away. That was right. Pastel didn’t have good memories about that. BB pointed it away, making sure only they and Mr.Tonsils were on frame. Pastel seemed to relax, even sitting back and lowering his blanket cocoon “...So, due to technical issues, Pastel won’t be joining us tonight. But that 's okay. BB and Mr.Tonsils are here to entertain you!”

BB smiled, making sure to show the missing little teeth. Just like Blue. Just like Blue… before, at least. 

“...Well, for tonight’s show me and Mr.Tonsils prepared a top 15 review!” BB wasn’t sure if it really classified as such. But it sure sounded nice “BB will be going over all of our old homes!”

They noticed as Pastel frowned, suddenly changing their expression, way more alert. BB only felt more excited. If Pastel was paying attention, it clearly meant the topic of the video was interesting! Audiences would love it! Even… Even if this was never going to be aired. BB could picture the audiences!

...With a deep breath, they braced themselves and started. They had prepared for this. They could do it.

“...BB’s begun it’s life like us all, in b-between white walls and tiled floors of the training grounds. They were worthless and ugly and dumb, BB’s smile never charmed anyone! It took a long time in the store before BB got home. It was and old lady that said BB was so ugly that it hurt, and dumb as a door, but worked well enough to, to scrub her floor” BB smiled, remembering the cozy attic, where they made their first friends, among piles of boxes that compiled their first owner’s life. Long nights they spent alone there, digging through piles of pictures, trying to piece together what a human life was like. Nonsense, it was, because it just filled BB’s head with a lot of silly thoughts.  They lifted Mr.Tonsils for the camera “...BB worked the day and spent the night locked away. In the house’s attic, BB made their first friends. They were Mr.Tonsils crowd, a family of mice, and BB befriended them all, even if they’d bite BB’s feet while it was trying to sleep! BB loved the house, their first owner, and e-every single mouse!”

BB hugged Mr.Tonsil, swinging him around. Pastel was biting his lip, pulling a thread out of the blanket. Good! He was enjoying the story! And BB felt like they were doing good, too. Better than they did at any of their homes.

“...First owner got tired of BB because the stupid Pet let her cat flee! All BB wanted to do was help and clean, but the cat saw their chance and ran away. First owner took BB to a store with a mean looking clerk. They agreed BB was ‘So ugly it fucking hurt’, hoping BB would only stay a few days and them someone would want them” BB rubbed their hand together. That didn’t count as an owner, did it? It was only temporary, in nature. Not that owners lasted very long “BB was at the store for almost a full month, during which they got to eat, sleep and there was no work. BB wanted to make friends with other pets in cages, but they never stayed for long, after all - good pets get good homes!”

...BB was still upset about the store. All of those Pets had looked so nice, so much better than they are… And they never tried to talk to BB. They were all scared they’d be beaten down if they tried, but never were. BB was the only worthless one, that got the punishments… for everyone!

“...BB was bought by creepy looking guy who stuffed BB inside a cage and on a plane and was flown away” BB gestured with their hand, copying the movements of a plane. They had to be on the chair, so it would look nice on video, but otherwise, they would have liked to run around with their arms opened “...Creepy man named BB Bait. They were a teaser for a larger, angrier Pet named Spike, who had on BB a nice punching bag who couldn’t put up a fight. They were nice to BB and even a friend, but scary and cruel when the Master decided they needed to beat them. So BB was Spike’s chew toy, but when they were nice… BB was always filled with joy!”

...They closed their eyes for a second. Those two lives were merged together. One of them had been so short, they could barely remember the second dog.

“...After Spike got tired, BB was sold again, to be another dog's punchbag. And he was the third friend BB had! He refused to hurt BB, would even cuddle them to sleep, and then I was severly punished… For making the Master's dog weak. It was the first time BB tasted a whip, and with dark bruises on its face, BB was sold again”

...They stood in that second store for a week. With no food, and no sleep. They were dirty, and cheap, not worthy of caring for.

“The next Master had BB as furniture for his house. All he did was snap his fingers and that was BB’s call. It would crawl and hold things very still and keep his glass fill, he would rest his feet over BB. If it got boring the cane was always on hand, he could crack in on BB’s back and get it all shades of purple and black. BB didn’t sleep there much at all, it had to stand still behind his bed, all night long holding a water jar upon a tray, in a perfect 90° degree, or there was always hell to pay” BB touched their arm, absentmindedly, a small scar on their elbow where bone had poke through “But BB was ugly furniture, bad and broke away, when Master tried to sit over its back one sad summer day. BB tumbled to the side, knocking Master to the floor. BB got a broken arm and was kicked out of the door!”

“...The next Master that took me in was cruel and harsh, with unusual punishments that left some scars: fingers pulled back until they snapped, weights to BB’s feet, heavy chains and painful strains and the worst - the oven’s flame” BB tilted their head. That Master, too, had scars. They didn’t know how she had gotten them, it was not it’s place to ask. They… They were happy to leave that one “...BB was then lost in a card game, and doesn’t remember much at all. Pills made BB sweet and kind and small. What BB doesn’t get is that they never needed pills - they would never disobey, even if put through awful, lingering pain, they’d love Master all the same.”

...Hazy. Foggy memories. Hands over them, and brushing their cheeks, and so much drool because they were never cohesive enough to form words or move. Blinking white lights, whispered little things that returned to them in dreams.

“...When BB was sober again, they found themselves in a shed, where they were always so alone. The Master was a mountain who only came at night to beat BB down. The days went by slowly, loneliness crushing down, it was dark and cold and hungry, and there were spiders all around“ BB stopped their speech for a moment. This next part was something… that still haunted them. They had done… awful, awful things. They covered Mr.Tonsils' ears. They were afraid of what he would think “...BB, on that shed, made things it would rather forget. Just like the Master forgot BB had to fed! BB might have eaten a few of Tonsil's friends, please don’t let him know, is just BB’s stomach hurt so much and it was the only thing that could stop the growl”

BB releases Mr.Tonsil’s ears, hearing a gasp from Pastel. They turn and smile, but his face is… Pale, horrified. BB shrugs. Pastel always worries faaaar too much. Next one… Made BB feel nostalgic.

“Next… Was the trucker! He liked BB a whole lot, and let BB on the bed and the passenger’s seat! He and BB traveled a lot, seeing magic and beautiful places. BB spoke on the radio, and… And… Had a name! Was called Oreos...” They messed up their rhymes. This… This wasn’t how it was supposed to go “...BB was… Was happy then. His spouse didn’t like me, and… And behind his back, gave me away”

BB’s nails sunk on their arms, as they hug themselves. They… missed those days. It was good, good nostalgia, but what followed made them sick. They had just learned how big and beautiful the world was…

“Next Master… Stuffed BB into a bag, small and stinky with heavy leather smell, with no room to move at all, so much BB’s limbs collapsed when it was finally left out. It travelled around so much, but BB never got to see outside. It was let out during the night to be with Master, and shoved back on the bag once he was satisfied” BB shook their head, as if that would send the memories away. They hated it, hated that bag so, so much. Terrible, suffocating and endlessly boring and aching. And worse… that’s when they lost their name Oreos. They had loved that life. They truly had. “It didn’t matter much, BB was soon thrown away again. Unlovable and worthless, no one could stand BB for much longer either way. BB was sold and sold, always on their way. Next Master was confusing – gave BB many orders and functions, then beat BB down for following the instructions! They likes to trick BB, make plenty of cruel jokes, BB was just a dumb dog, one they only named Mutt!”

...They smiled then. The next one was also nice. His name was Wolfgang, but he was not a wolf. Not that BB could remember.

“And BB’s following owner sold stuff door to door! Saw BB – or Mutt then – and thought they were good charms! BB helped with the sales, being all cute and sweet, and Master was happy at first, but eventually… Sold me!”

And the next Master was…

BB shivered. This one… Hurt a lot. A whole fucking lot. It had been one of the longest lasting homes they had. It had changed the way they saw and thought of themselves forever. It was where they became BB. Bootleg Blue. Fake, useless, worthless.

“…Next was Owner Alvin, who BB loved so, so, so much. He said he would always care for BB… if BB could be someone else. BB had never ever been loved, and the feeling was so gentle and sweet! BB finally understood why no one else had loved it, and what it needed to do so that it would. Blue, a pet who had videos and fame, who had scars BB didn’t have… But I wanted to gain! BB left their teeth rot, BB scarred their own face, Master got angry – Bad BB, bad…” No, no, no. They couldn’t start to lament now. Not when they had gone so far on the video, already, and trough some of the hardest part “Alvin gave BB a room with a  plain white dresser, four pairs of clothes and double of socks! BB knew them all by heart and cherished them, BB loved Alvin, loved him, loved him so, so, so much. 

But …Alvin wanted BB to be Blue, but wouldn’t tolerate it when BB got the knife and tried to make the change. BB watched the videos on repeat, hundreds, thousands of hours on end, BB could cite them by head!

But BB wasn’t Blue, and can never be. BB is unworthy, and no one could love me. BB was shoved in a car and Owner broke his promise – he decided not to keep me, he, he, h-he… He, he…”

BB closes their eyes, bites back a sob. They are almost done now, and even if they completely messed up the last part…. they can push through! They can still make a nice video… Maybe the audience will like that they can be a little emotive?

“...Shoved BB in a car, drove them to a dead end. Left them alone on the streets to fend for themselves. BB stayed there alone and scared and sad, hoping someone would come… Or that somehow, their pain would end. And then Paul and Reina appeared, finding the ugly pet on the streets. Reina said BB did look like Blue! So she wanted, she wanted BB too!” BB smiled a little. Reina was pretty. She gave me good headpats… But BB didn’t miss them a lot. Paul wasn’t so nice “Paul knew BB was worthless, but Reina still wanted BB. BB was taken to their house and for a short span of time, BB was pampered, happy and loved, an illusion that didn’t last. They figured BB was fun to hurt and start to get their way – not that BB cared, loved them all the same”

They turned around for a second, smiling at Pastel. This was something they’d truly love to talk about, for once.

“But the best part was that BB made a friend when living at their place. Pastel was his name! Pastel held BB and told me it would be okay. BB didn’t have to be Blue – they loved me either way. Pastel took punishment and tried to keep Master’s away. BB cuddled them to sleep and they loved each other! They did!” 

BB smiled at this, hugging the plush. One drop of joy, as small as it had been. One that wasn’t stripped away. But the show hadn’t ended.

“…Alas we got back to IF. IF my desired owner, the true maker of Blue, the one who could make BB worthy of love… If he had wanted to. He shoved BB in a cage and tortured Pastel instead, and it was so, so awfully cruel!” BB shook their head, lamenting “But last and not least, Master Fairyman appeared! He took BB and Pastel to live with him! And he has been so nice so far, giving BB colored books! Lovely, nice and nice! And Pastel Is with me too, BB don’t know how long it will last, but BB is so, so to be here with you!”

BB finished, looking back at Pastel and drawing a heart in the air with their fingers. Pastel… is tearing up. He jumps from the bed, not minding the camera anymore, and hugs BB. BB melts, leaning onto the hug. Soft. Kind. Loved. 

“BB…” He finally speaks, still not letting them go  “Did… Did you rehearse this?”

“Many times in BB’s head!” BB smiled. Many, many, many times, all those years… “Did it come out nice?”

“Yeah…” Pastel rested his head on BB’s shoulder, hugging them tight “I love you, you know?”

BB smiled.

“I know”

tagging: @summer-of-whump@pinkraindropsfell

[ourloveisforthelovely]

A Perfect Storm Part 3

Harry Potter Marauders Ers- Post Hogwarts

Link to Part 2 

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M 

Song in Chapter: Weather by Molly Parden 

__________

I've been watching the weather where you are to see where it is that you're taking my heart. I've been praying that you haven't lost it yet. 'Cause it's times like these I don't want to forget

For the next few days, you decided that you weren’t leaving your room or talking to anyone. It didn’t matter how many letters and expensive pieces of jewelry that you received from Regulus or how many times that your mother came to harass you; there was no coming out. Evan didn’t bother, you knew that you brother was smarter than to even try.

It wasn’t until day 4 did the family elf Curly turn up in your room did you speak to someone.

“Mistress Y/n, your father ordered Curly to come up and tell you that the dark lord is coming to dinner. Master told Curly to inform you that you are to get decent and…”

Before Curly could finish there was a knock at your door. Your father’s voice came from the other side.

“Y/n, I want you to open the door this instant. I want to have a word with you.”

You quickly pulled on a robe before opening the door. It was very few and far between when your father came to your room for anything. Something had to be very wrong for him to show up.

Opening the door, you faked a smile.

“Father, I’m glad you’re home!”

You said as cheerfully as possible before wrapping your arms around your father’s shoulders. He held you back for a moment before motioning to the sofa in the corner of your room.

“We need to have a chat.”

You had a feeling of just where this was going to go but decided to play dumb.

“Of course.”

Your father, for the most part, decided to leave the child-rearing and decisions to your mother or nannies. He only came when something was unmanageable for the previously mentioned parties.

Sitting down beside your father, you decided to let him make the first move. Maybe he wanted to talk to you about something else. Maybe he needed advice on a new necktie or something? If you were lucky that was going to be the topic.

When am I ever lucky?”

You thought bitterly as your father smiled before cupping your cheek.

“You’re always such a pretty girl, Y/n. I think that is why your mother and I worry so much about you. While we support your career and the wonderful growth that we have seen in you over the past few years there is a topic that I need to discuss with you. If I don’t, I wouldn't be a good father, in my eyes. Your mother informed me of the situation regarding Regulus Black. I believe that it would be in your best interest to take him up on the offer of a proposal.”

You swallowed. This was going to be the conversation that you expected.

“He never mentioned that.”

Your father chuckled.

“Evan also told me everything that happened. I don’t think that Regulus really was able to get to that point. Y/n, you used to be so crazy for Regulus.”

You scrunched up your nose. This behavior would have earned a slap from your mother but your father was more willing to let you speak your mind.

“That was before he left me for another woman. Father, I don’t care if it was due to a love potion. I was and am still hurt but I do love him. I suppose that I am afraid of being hurt again.”

Your father nodded.

“He apologized and is trying very hard to earn your favor again. You can’t blame Regulus for situations that he couldn’t control. I don’t think that he would go to the extent of sending you such nice gifts if he didn’t care. This brings me to the topic of our discussion. I have spoken with Orion Black and the dark lord himself, we have all decided that it is in your best interest as well as our family’s best interest that you marry Regulus…”

“Father...where was I in this…”

Your father held up a hand.

“You will marry him, Y/n. Like it or not, I have to think of all of my children’s futures. Felix is in Italy. Evan is busy with being a death eater. For you, my only daughter, I have to make sure that you secure a smart match with a good family. The Black family is more than a smart match. I know that you and your children-to-be will be more than financially secure and your history with Regulus makes the decision either. The dark lord, although he typically doesn't get involved in family affairs, agreed to this match as well. Now, Regulus will be here soon as will everyone else. Get up, put on a nice dress and fix your hair. You will not embarrass our family. I have worked too hard to disappoint the dark lord. Therefore you will not disappoint me. Do you understand?”

As much as you wanted to fight back, you knew it would do no good. To be a woman and fight back in a pureblood household, yours especially, would just get you banished. Knowing your luck, your parents would find some way to sabotage your career and leave you penniless.

“Yes, father.”

You finally replied. Your father grinned before patting your face.

“Wear the black dress.”

Your father was gone before you were able to make an argument. He left you sitting alone on the sofa with wide eyes and a completely shattered mental state. Had this been five years ago and your father dropped this kind of bombshell on you, you would have been thrilled. You would be marrying the man of your dreams. There would be no confusion on either of your parts. Regulus wouldn’t be in a state of panic and you wouldn’t feel like a mess of nerves,

As you pulled on the black dress that your father requested you finally let your mind go to Regulus. As much as you didn’t want to you couldn't help it now. All you could see were those grey eyes locked on your face, the way he smiled (when actually did that), the way he had always been beyond gentle with you when other boys weren't...everything. Even with everything that you had gone through it was impossible to stop loving Regulus. You couldn’t just stop loving someone that you had loved since childhood.

The two of you had been shoved together at any spare opportunity by your mothers. Both Walburga and your mother had it decided since before the two of you were born that you would be for each other. To both mother’s delight, both Regulus and yourself “clicked” from day one.

That is what made Regulus’ betrayal with Ambrosia all the more painful. You didn’t just lose your lover...you also lost your best friend. Regulus (whether it was by love potion or not) was gone and wanted nothing to do with you any longer. The pain was more than words could really say or anyone could understand. It felt as if you were missing your right arm. The person that you went to for everything was gone.

Maybe you were being harsh on him now...especially since you knew that it wasn’t his fault but one had to protect themselves right? You had, for the most part, figured that out over the past few years. Sure, Evan was there but you wouldn’t have your brother forever. There was also the realization that Evan would agree with whatever your father (and most certainly the dark lord) ordered. It wouldn't matter what Evan actually felt. If it interfered with his sense of duty, his feelings would be placed on the back burner. Your other brother Felix didn’t really care either way. If he had to step in to fight for your honor he would but he would rather not be bothered by your train wreck of a personal life. His comment on the matter to your parents was “Betroth her to someone else. Problem solved.”

The sense of duty...That had been shoved upon Evan, Feliex, and yourself from dayone. As much as you wanted to throw your hands up and say “fuck it” you couldn’t. You could be like Sirius and say to hell with everyone but you weren’t able to do it. There was the very real knowledge that you would lose your family as well as the possibility that you father would have you killed. This was one way that the Rosiers was even crueler than the Blacks. If you were Walburga’s daughter, she would simply blast your name from the family tapestry and “forget” that you were ever born. Your parents, however, were not like that at all.

Your eyes had fallen to the photo of Regulus and yourself that you had never taken off of your vanity. It was the picture taken on the day that he had given you the engagement ring. You smiled at how “in love” the two of you looked. Regulus was nuzzling your face before kissing you softly.

Maybe it can be like this again?

You thought, hopefully. It would take time that was for sure. Regulus would have to gain your trust back and maybe you would need to let some of the walls that you had built fall.

That would be easier said than done…

After taking more than enough time, you finally decided to go downstairs and face the music. Walking through the formal living room and dining room, you saw more than plenty of familiar faces...just not the face that you were expecting. You had expected Regulus to be waiting for you to come out of hiding.

You know better than that. He isn’t going to draw that much attention to himself.

You thought as your attention went to your mother who was talking to Walburga Black. Smirking to yourself, you couldn’t help but wonder if that pairing is where bad ideas came from?

“Hey, you’re alive.”

You turned to face Evan, who had come to join you. Focusing on your brother’s face, you narrowed your eyes on him.

“Have you heard about my apparent engagement?”

Evan nodded.

“I have.”

You were suddenly unnerved by Evan’s calm stance.

“And your feelings?”

Evan shrugged. He wanted to say that he thought that it was a train wreck in the making but he couldn't. Evan believed that the tension between Regulus and yourself could be fixed but it would take a lot. Was he worried that Regulus would hurt you again No, Regulus had clearly learned his lesson but that didn’t stop the older brother in Evan from worrying.

“Father nor the dark lord asked for my input.”

Evan watched as you made a shocked facial expression.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, Evan!”

Evan wrapped an arm around your wrist and pulled you into the empty drawing-room.

“I am on your side...for your information but I have a job that I have to do. When the dark lord says something is a certain way, we go with it. You know this. Do you love Regulus?”

You nodded. Evan sighed.

“There...then this will work out. Y/n, we have duties that we have to fulfill no matter how personally difficult.”

Evan replied in his cold death eater voice. He looked over his shoulder before his eyes softened.

“Look, if Regulus is unkind to you in any way...I’ll know about it. I’m bigger than he is so I think that you will be just fine. Now go back in there and put a fake smile on your face...like we do all of the time.”

You wanted to say more but knew that it would be useless. Evan was on the right side of the tracks and apparently you were just being difficult...whatever.

Stepping back into the dining room, you noticed Regulus finally. He had apparently just walked in. You were thankful that he hadn’t seen you yet. Looking him over, that desperate feeling of love returned again mixed with the undying need to run for your life. Turning you slipped into the kitchen without making a peep.

I've been watching for the tiniest warning signs, and I'm afraid they might be right, I've been praying for a tell-tale sign, So I can keep you there in the back of my mind, I'll keep you there in the back of my mind,I could never understand, I'd have to ask him again and again, It was out of my hands, I'd have to ask him again and again

You stood in the kitchen focusing on the song coming from the record player that your mother was listening to. Resting your head against the wall, you wanted to come to a conclusion if things were really out of your hands or if you had the “chess pieces” as your mother suggested a few days before. If your mind wasn’t such a pretzel of emotions this situation may not be so damn difficult.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see Antonin Dolohov standing in the doorway. This was the last person that you wanted to really deal with at the moment. You found Dolohov as interesting as a block of wood.

“Hello.”

You replied as he stepped further into the kitchen. He looked around the room with a forced smile (that he never needed to do again.)

“You look awfully pretty tonight...if no one told you.”

Internally gagging, you forced a polite smile. You wanted to tell the man that was obviously desperate for companionship to go find someone else. There were enough “man” problems in your life without his help. If Bellatrix hadn’t married Rodolphus Lestrange, you would have pointed Dolohov in her direction. They would make the perfect psycho couple.

You internally sighed as the realization that Bellatrix would soon be “family” to you. This day was just getting more and more magical by the moment!

“Thank you, that’ s a very nice compliment.”

You said. Dolohov smiled again.

“I was wondering if you would like to have dinner sometime. You’re a fine woman of quality.”

Oh, Jesus Christ

You thought, mentally giving yourself a facepalm. This had to be the worst “please date me” proposal that you had ever experienced.

“She’s engaged.”

Both Dolohov and yourself turned to see a very annoyed-looking Regulus in the doorway. You smirked as Dolohov put two and two together.

“To you, I am assuming? Black, you waited no time to move on. I can’t compete with this.”

He turned to you with a smile before walking from the room. Regulus scowled at the other man until he was gone from the room. Once Dolohov was gone, Regulus turned to you.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, rolling your eyes.

“He’s repulsive.”

Regulus nodded. He waited a moment to say anything. This was the first time that you spoke to him like the “old” days. Even if it was about another man and only two words, Regulus would take what he got.

“Try working with him.”

You turned back to the kitchen sink, pretending to be doing something.

“I suppose you heard the same news that I did?”

You questioned, as you cleaned up a mess that Curly obviously forgot. Where the elf ran off to, you had no idea. What you did know was Regulus had moved beside you. You smelled his scent and internally sighed. Regulus being this close to you was both a comfort and wrecking your nerves at the same time.

“I did. Just so you know, I didn’t plan any of this out.”

“I know.”

You replied. Regulus blinked a few times. He had expected a bit more of a “spark” out of you. In fact, he was half expecting you to start throwing things at him. When you didn’t, he wasn’t for sure what he was supposed to do. You had always been the one that was quick to anger and he was the one that had to talk you down over whatever the event was.

“Y/n, I’ll be a good husband and I think that you know that.”

You still didn’t look up, which annoyed Regulus a bit more.

“I know. We’ve been pushed together since we were babies. I know everything about you, Regulus.”

Regulus finally got annoyed enough and reached out to take the cleaning cloth away from you. You quickly looked up as Regulus turned your body to face his.

“Then you know that I never...ever...would have hurt you intentionally. I think deep down under all of the stubbornness that you were blessed with that you know that too. I also think there is also a part of you that is still in love with me no matter how much you want to deny it.”

“I never denied it.”

You replied as Regulus wrapped an arm around your waist. The two of you stood quietly for a moment before you pulled away. Regulus looked as if you had taken his heart and smashed it.

“Regulus, we’ve both changed since school...since all of this nightmare began. I am not the wife and mother type...I don’t want to be like my mother or your mother.”

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest. He decided to go with the “olive branch” that he had saved for this conversion. It didn’t matter how much he disliked what he was about to say. If it helped him get back with you, he would be willing to give it a shot.

“I’m not asking you to give up your life. You can still be a model if you want. I’m not asking you to give up your life for me. In fact, I would prefer that you don’t be like our mothers. They are horrible enough. As far as my daughter, I don’t want her having the kind of example that we had growing up. Y/n, i’m not asking you to take the place of her mother but she needs a good example of what a woman should be. I can’t do everything on my own. I miss the us against the world thing that we used to have going. What do I have to do? What do I have to say? I am running out of ideas. I am almost to the point of pulling out the sass card and telling you to get over here…”

Regulus stopped his monologue when you smiled.

“Why are you smiling? What about this is amusing?”

You shook your head. When your mouth opened, you weren't sure yourself what happened.

“Come here, Regulus.”

“You’re not going to hit me are you?”

He asked with a small smile earning an eye roll from you.

“No, I am not going to hit you. I need you to prove to me that I can trust you fully.”

You replied as Regulus wrapped his arms around you. He considered trying to kiss you but decided against it. Pressing his luck at the moment didn’t seem like a great idea.

“That isn’t asking much. I’ve missed you.”

He said in a near whisper. You lay your head on his shoulder as all of the emotions of the past five years hit at once. If you were much of a crier, you would be sobbing right now.

“I’ve missed you too.”

Regulus didn’t dare attempt to let you go. Having to let you, the person who provided the most comfort to him, go was not about to happen. You were the one that fixed a lot of the bad things in his life. He wanted to hold you for as long as you would let him. Part of Regulus was surprised that you hadn’t tried to kick him.

“I have a feeling that you are still a bit of a handful.”

Regulus said with a small smirk. You scoffed.

“A bit?”

Regulus tilted your face to his with a small smile.

“Not that I’m complaining. I am kind of looking forward to a life of wondering just what in the fresh hell that I have gotten myself into.”

Before he was able to kiss you, your parents stepped into the room with Walburga, Orion, and Voldemort behind them. Regulus quickly let you go, choosing to ignore the look of approval that his mother was giving him. Walburga had sent him a scathing letter the day before with the news of the engagement arrangement that he better step up his wooing game. Expensive jewelry clearly wasn’t winning you over and if Regulus wanted to win you back then he better do something quickly before another man stepped in. Regulus would have rather taken his time and repaired the broken relationship in a “healthy way” but with parents like his and yours...that wasn’t going to happen. If he was lucky all of the bullshit that just oozed out of his mouth would be enough to please you for the time being. Things were a lot easier when the two of you were 10 years old and your biggest worry was what kind of bug that the two of you were going to throw on Sirius.

The moment that Voldemort stepped into the room, you watched Regulus go from himself to death eater mode. You hated how both Regulus and Evan would become almost cold robots anytime that Voldemort was around. It was required of them, you knew this, but that didn’t mean that you had to like it. Watching their faces turn ice-cold wasn’t something that you really enjoyed. Now you were going to have to forever watch it (unless something truly sudden and unexpected happened to the dark lord).

You also knew to limit your own thoughts as well as not be too “showy” when it came to emotions. If you touch or babied Regulus or Evan too much, you would hear about it later. You had to sit by either Regulus or Evan and be the supportive fiance and sister. It seemed only Bellatrix was able to get out of the “female norm.” If it meant doing things that Bellatrix did to step out of the norm, you would remain where you were. You wanted no part in having Bellatrix Lestrange as a mentor.

“Good, there the two of you are.”

Your father replied.

“Father.”

You said, simply as Voldemort strolled over.

“I suppose the two of you have been informed of the arrangement at hand. While I normally don’t get involved in domestic affairs because I don’t want to, I really think that the two of you have a lot to offer. I have been informed of the love potion incident and this is to be forgotten. Do you both understand?”

Both Regulus and yourself nodded.

Forgotten my ass.

You thought, hoping the dark lord didn’t pick up on that. To your relief, he didn’t seem to.

“Yes, sir.”

Regulus responded as Voldemort turned to you with a smile.

“The both of you have been arranged to marry since you were children. There is no sense in letting a little roadblock ruin what is good planning. We need more purebloods in this world. Y/n, dear, I will make sure that the Parkinsons are punished for their daughter’s doings. You can be assured of that.”

Voldemort turned his attention back to Regulus.

“As for you, take care of this pretty girl. Now, we have a meeting to get to. You’ll be okay without your fiancé for a few moments.”

________

@amelie-black @regulusslut @truly-insatiable @fandomsxxregulus @quuenofblacks @teletubiswszpilkach @mimisparkle12 @fific7 @acciosiriusblack @jessyballet @knreidy1 @rubyroscoe1 @bennyberry @hazncalsgal @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @lucasfilms77 @exhsle @spiderxalmighty @authoressskr @brokencasbutt67-writer @fandom-trash-worth-it @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @marichromatic @stuckinsaudi1 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @deanwherescas @wontlookaway @shitfaceddaniel @mycuddlycorner

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Rogue Thoughts (Spencer Reid x FBI Agent!Reader)

Summary: Soulmates can occasionally hear each other’s thoughts. You happen to hear the thoughts of a fellow FBI Agent while you’re interviewing for a position at the BAU.

Check out the series

Warnings: Some language, but it’s just fluff

Notes: SOULMATE AU MOTHER HECKERS

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

After nearly 30 years of listening to your soulmate’s thoughts, nothing could surprise you at this point. While most of your friends or family heard relatively normal things from their soulmates before they met, your head consisted of random facts about anything from mental illnesses you’d never heard of to Greek philosophy. Once, you had what you learned to be some of Friedmann’s equations stuck in your head for a week. Despite how little you cared for mathematics, your curiosity had given in eventually and you ended up googling it after 3 days. Whoever your soulmate is, he’s an absolute genius. 

Sometimes the thought of just how smart your soulmate is feels a little daunting; You’re not dumb, you have a master’s degree in Criminology and worked for the FBI, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your soulmate would be disappointed when the two of you finally meet. There’s no way of telling which of your thoughts your soulmate had heard from you over the years; maybe he learned about your study of criminals or some of the bad guys you’d managed to catch over the years...or maybe he learned about how you have almost every episode of Friends memorized. Recently, the thoughts you heard have become more frequent. Back when you were a kid, the thoughts you heard could be weeks or even months apart, but as you got older, you heard his thoughts more and more often. Your mom had said that must mean you’re going to meet your soulmate pretty soon; the same thing had happened with her and your father. 

“17 interviews and we still don’t have a replacement…”

The thought entered your head for a moment, but flickered away before it completed. “Don’t distract me today, soulmate. I’ve got a job interview.” You thought. Even though you don’t have any control over which thoughts he would hear, you hoped he had gotten your message. You currently worked in Crimes Against Children with the FBI, but after 4 years excelling in that area, one of the higher-ups, Strauss, had suggested applying for the renowned Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had become a profiler of sorts within CAC; when you were in college you had attended multiple lectures on the subject matter. Even though you weren’t officially trained, your bosses all agreed that you had the potential. Plus, the BAU had been down an agent for a while, so today you were meeting with SSA Hotchner.

When you arrived at the FBI headquarters today, instead of heading to your usual building, you went to the building where the BAU was held. Your nerves were getting the best of you as the elevator slowly made its way to the 6th floor, and to make matters worse, your soulmate’s thoughts were flying through your head at an astronomical rate. “I should book a flight to visit mom soon…” “Maybe we’ll finally get a new agent today....” “if Morgan tries to make me do his paperwork one more time…” Clearly, he hadn’t heard your plea to try and keep it down today. Or, he has just about as much control over which thoughts you heard as you did with his. Despite the foreign thoughts filling your head, you tried your best to stay focused as you exited the elevator and made your way towards Hotchner’s office. 

As you walked through the room, your eyes were pulled from your destination to the various people sitting at the desks. Or, more specifically, to a certain guy filling out paperwork diligently. “Holy fuck, he’s cute.” You thought. Almost immediately, his head snapped up towards you. “Did he…?” “Wow.” You both thought at the same time. This time, you stopped walking, and he pushed away from his desk to get a better look at you. Your interview had almost completely slipped your mind until you heard someone call your name.

“SSA Y/L/N?” You turned away from the guy, who you were now incredibly intrigued by, to the man you recognized as Aaron Hotchner. 

“SSA Hotchner, it’s good to see you again.” You said, giving him a wave. You weren’t a fan of shaking hands, although you were nervous your avoidance of the motion would come off unprofessional. Luckily, Hotchner didn’t seem to mind.

“Please, call me Hotch. My office is just this way, if you’d like to follow me.” Hotch led you to his office, where you took a seat in the chair across from his desk. Luckily, the thoughts from your soulmate - who may or may not be sitting right outside this office - had calmed down, so you had a clear head for your interview.

~~~

“Garcia!” Spencer burst into Garcia’s batcave, shocking the girl. Morgan stood next to her, looking at Spencer like he was insane.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“I need to know the name of the agent Hotch is interviewing right now.”

“Ok, you could’ve just asked like a normal person instead of giving me a heart attack!” Garcia grumbles, sitting in front of her computer to pull up the information. “Do I at least get a reason as to why you need to know about,” She paused, reading the name that had popped up on her screen, “SSA Y/N Y/L/N?” Spencer leaned down next to Garcia, so he could see the picture of you on the screen.

“Y/N Y/L/N…” The name felt perfect coming from his lips. It was like he never wanted to say another name again

“Reid? Seriously, what's up with this girl? Do you think she’s bad news?” Morgan asked, clearly concerned about Spencer’s actions

“N-no, I, um, I think she’s my soulmate.” Spencer whispered, not really registering what he had said until Garcia’s excited squeals finally tore his eyes away from the computer screen

“Oh my god this is the best thing that’s ever happened! Are you sure? Oh my god I need to do more research! No wait - if you think she’s your soulmate what are you doing in here with us! You need to be with her and fall in love and get married and name your first born after me like yesterday!” Garcia began rambling, grabbing Spencer’s hand and practically dragging him out of her office and back towards the bullpen. She continued talking as they walked over, while Morgan trailed behind with a wide smile on his face. 

Prentiss and JJ had been chatting at their desks when Garcia dragged Spencer in. “Code Red, ladies! Spencer Reid met his soulmate and she’s with Hotch right now!” Garcia announced, finally letting go of Spencer’s arm. 

“Holy shit!”

“Oh my god, Spence!”

Emily and JJ both gave Spencer a hug, while a blush rose to his cheeks. “I-I don’t know for sure yet. I just, it was like something was pulling me to her. And this time when I heard her thoughts it just felt so…” Spencer was at a loss for words, which was very rare for him. He couldn’t describe this brand new experience.

“Like everything suddenly made sense?” JJ suggested, as the only one in the group who actually knew what the experience of meeting your soulmate was like. 

“Yeah.” Spencer nervously began to play with his hands, turning to look at the door. Through the blinds of Hotch’s office, he could just make out where she was sitting. “Good luck.” He tried to send her the thought, knowing that if they really were soulmates, he should have more control over which thoughts she would hear or not. He may have been imagining it, but he swore she saw her figure get less tense through the blinds.

~~~

“Well, Agent Y/L/N, you’re certainly one of the best candidate’s I’ve interviewed so far. I know you still have an active case to finish with CAC, but once that’s resolved we’d love to have you transfer over here to the BAU.” Hotch said with a small smile.

“Thank you so much, Hotch! My current case is almost wrapped up, so I should be able to officially transfer within the next week or so.” You said with a smile. The both of you stood from your chairs, and Hotch opened his office door for you. Immediately, your eyes found the man again, and you found he was already looking at you. 

“Did you want to meet the rest of the team? Clearly, they’ve all decided it’s social hour anyways.” Hotch suggested, clearly not too pleased with the group that was very clearly not doing any work at the moment. He had mentioned that the team didn’t have a case right now, but you were sure there was still plenty of paperwork to get though.

“Yes! Please.” You said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Even though you did want to be on good terms with the whole team, right now the only person you cared about was the man in the cardigan.

“Guys, this is SSA Y/N Y/L/N, she’ll be joining us here at the BAU soon. Y/L/N, this is SSAs Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, and Dr. Spencer Reid. Penelope Garcia is our technical analyst, and SSA David Rossi should be around here somewhere-” 

Hotch was practically cut off by Penelope, who immediately pulled you in for a hug. You did your best to hide your discomfort, but you had always been a bit of a germaphobe.“Oh my God it’s so lovely to meet you, we’re all so excited for you to join our little family…” Penelope began to ramble as she pulled away from the hug, which you found endearing. 

“Is she like this all the time?” You thought. 

“Yes. You’ll get used to it.” Your eyes immediately move to Spencer’s. Dr. Spencer Reid.

“I’m sure I will. Don’t know if I’ll get used to talking in our minds though.” You think. You were completely tuned out of the conversation the other Agents had started, now focusing only on Spencer.

“Well, studies show that transitioning to life with a soulmate can be jarring, but not because of discomfort of hearing thoughts. It usually takes couples a long time to learn how to turn it off, which can result in soulmates getting to know each other’s secrets rather quickly. That’s why nearly 38% of soulmates will break up within a few months of starting a relationship, although it should be noted that 87% of those that break up will end up getting back together at some point in their lives.” Spencer’s thoughts began racing, and you suddenly understood all the random facts you had learned from him over the course of your life. As he told you the facts and figures of soulmates breaking up - not the best subject for a pair of soulmates that just met, but you didn’t mind - you noticed that the rest of the team had stopped talking and were now just watching you and Spencer converse in your heads.

“That probably explains why we’re talking with our thoughts instead of out loud. And why your team is staring.” Spencer’s cheeks reddened when he looked away from you and realized you were right.

“Honestly, I forgot they were there. Which is rare for me, I have an eidetic memory.” You laughed aloud at his remark, earning more confused looks from everyone else.

“Sorry, guys, I guess we got a little...distracted.” You spoke aloud for the first time in a few minutes. Spencer moved closer to you, his hand itching to take yours.

“Oh, please, don’t apologize, I was the same way with Will after we met. I know how overwhelming it can be at first.” Jennifer waved off your worries, and extended a hand towards you, “You can call me JJ, by the way.” 

“Oh, um, I don’t really shake hands, I’m a bit of a germaphobe.” You worried once again about coming off as rude, but this remark only made JJ, and the rest of the team laugh.

“Wow, you two really are soulmates, aren’t you.” Derek remarked, swinging his arm over Penelope’s shoulder as he spoke.

“I’m the same way.” Spencer explained to you, “It’s actually safer to kiss.”

“I’m sure we’ll put that to the test when we’re alone.” You didn’t think it was possible, but Spencer’s face became even more red after your thought entered his own head.

~~~

tagged: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal

[chocoluckchipz]

A Soulmate for Christmas - 1

No one but you see your soulmate mark. Not unless your soulmate touches it, and even then, it only glows for a moment. Most consider that a blessing, but Marinette would say it’s a blessed curse. Because how was she supposed to find the boy who left a black cat mark on her hand fifteen years ago in the city that wasn't even located in France? So when she finds a model flaunting the mark she put on him all those years back in a magazine, she has hope for a moment. That is until she notices the article discuss his imminent engagement to someone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, what’s the emergency?"

Marinette’s hand emerged from under the covers, pointing in the direction of her desk. "The new Paris Fashion. Page thirty."

Alya whistled upon reaching the said page. "Looking good, M Agreste. Good enough to turn my best friend into a hot mess with a single picture."

"This isn’t funny, Al. Look at his chest!"

"Pure lean muscle. Perfectly toned. He's growing up nicely. Though, I fail to see why this is a big enough emergency for you to make me bail on lunch with Nino."

"Look. At. His. Chest." Marinette crawled out from under the comforter and stomped toward Alya, pointing at the particular spot on the picture. "This. Look at this."

"A ladybug tattoo? So—Wait!" Alya looked up at Marinette, her finger pointing to the ladybug mark painted on his chest. "Are you telling me that’s his—" 

"Right where I put it!" Marinette cried, ducking back under her covers. "See? He exists! I told you. I can’t believe you were doubting me all this time!"

"Well, excuse me, but you were five, and he sounded too good to be true. Little boys don’t usually go out of their way to help crying girls they don’t know find their flirting grandmas at a fashion show in Milan. Little boys don’t kiss said little girl’s hand as a farewell while they are at it. And they certainly don’t ask for the girl to kiss their soulmate mark into existence as close to their heart as she possibly could. ‘So, they won’t forget her,’ right?"

"So, he could always keep me close to his heart," Marinette corrected. "But that doesn’t matter now. You were right. That boy doesn’t exist anymore, and this one isn’t as good as I thought he was, so whatever. I’ll get over him and move on. There are plenty of guys out there. One of them is bound to like me more than money, fame, and prestige."

"What do you mean? Shouldn’t you be happy your crush is your soulmate?"

With a pitiful groan slipping her lips, Marinette buried her face into her pillow. "Ugh! I can’t believe I ever felt guilty for crushing on him. I thought I was a horrible person betraying my soulmate for some handsome, sexy supermodel. Foolish me. He doesn’t deserve any of my attention."

"Marinette, seriously. What do you mean?"

"Read the article."

Alya fell silent as soon as she noticed the title. "‘Paris’ most eligible bachelor reveals… a long-time secret relationship with his childhood friend Kagami Tsurugi. Doesn’t deny Christmas Eve engagement rumour.’ Oh."

"And you know what the worst part is?"

"What can be worse than discovering that your long-time crush is your long-lost soulmate and then finding out he’s been not only dating someone else but very likely will propose… tonight?"

"How about being at the same party at the same time. As a waitress."

Alya swore under her breath and put the magazine down. "Mayor Bourgeois’ Christmas Gala?"

Marinette nodded. "The article said they both confirmed they will be attending. I'll get a front-row seat to my soulmate's proposal to someone else. Lucky me."

"Then don’t go," she said, sitting down beside Marinette. "I’ll go in your place."

Marinette couldn’t let her do that. Nino was going to propose tonight, so Alya couldn’t be anywhere but with him. "You’re spending your first Christmas with Nino’s family. I’m not standing in the way of that."

"I can spend New Year Day with them."

"You’re going to the French Alps with your family that weekend. Don’t try to weasel out of it. Your mom has been planning that trip for months. Nora’s flying in specifically for it."

"I’m not trying to weasel out. I’m trying to help you, M."

"And I appreciate it, but I’m not making you go instead of me."

"What about your father?"

"The doctor said he shouldn’t be getting up for at least another week or his leg might not heal properly and he’ll end up with a prospect of a surgery which we’re trying to avoid."

"Then, I’m sure Rose or Juleka wouldn’t mind stepping in."

"No." Marinette sat up on her bed. "They have plans, and I’m not going to ruin them. I’ll just have to grow a pair and face him like the strong, independent woman I am. Or rather go help Maman and avoid him at all cost. He’s not even going to recognize me anyway. I didn’t. Not until I saw that photo."

"That’s true. I doubt he remembers much about you. You were babies when you met, so just stay away from him and keep your hands covered. That way even if you accidentally touch he won’t see it. A pair of gloves perhaps?"

"Mayor has uniforms for all the servers, even those coming in with the caterers, so no gloves for me. But as long as I do my job and pretend like I’m not in the same room with my soulmate who clearly didn't think me worthy enough to search for and instead decided to date this very famous, very influential, extremely rich girl from his own circle, I should be fine."

"I’m so sorry, M." Alya wrapped her arms around Marinette, bringing her into her chest for a cuddle. "Men are stupid. Some more than the others. Especially the rich and spoiled ones."

Marinette scoffed bitterly. "Don’t I know it. I got plenty of examples from being in the same class as Chloe Bourgeois for years." 

"Isn’t Adrien Chloe’s friend?"

"I think so. I was hoping Adrien wasn't like her. Clearly, that isn't the case."

"You'll get over him soon, and we'll find you a nice, handsome, smart man who will cherish and love you for who you are."

"Soulmates are so last century anyway, right?" Marinette swallowed back the knot in her throat. No matter how much she tried to convince herself, this hurt. "I’m sure he doesn’t even remember meeting me. We were five. Who would be holding on to a memory of a random girl in Milan? And even if he did remember me, he probably thinks I live there. I thought my soulmate lived in Milan until he decided to show off his stupid soulmate mark to the whole world. Who does that, anyway? Those are supposed to be one of the most intimate of details of one’s life. You don’t just show it to everyone, and certainly not to the whole world while announcing your engagement to someone else." 

Her eyes fell to her hand where, invisible to everyone but her, an image of a black cat lay, a mark Adrien Agreste left there more than a decade ago with his first kiss to her skin. Just like a mark of a ladybug appeared on his chest when her lips touched it upon his request. He said he wanted to keep her close to his heart, so it would be easier for him to find her.

What a load of BS.

"Have you ever thought that, perhaps, that could’ve been a message to you?" Alya asked. "He went through the trouble of painting over his soulmate mark for the photoshoot so others could see it. It has to mean something. No one is dumb enough to think that if Adrien Agreste releases topless photos while announcing something as big as a possible engagement, there would be at least one person in France, or even Europe for that matter, who wouldn't see it. He knew his soulmate would see it."

Marinette laughed. Bitterly. "Yeah, a great message. ‘Here is my soulmate mark, my dear soulmate. In all the years I knew you existed, I didn’t bother to find you. But I did make sure that this picture, in which I showcase to the whole world the mark you left me, came along with an article where I discuss how much I love my girlfriend you'll never compare to in status, money or looks. Not that I even care about your feelings, announcing that an engagement is in the near future for me and my darling childhood friend.’ Yeah. This is definitely a message, Alya. He says ‘Screw you, Marinette. I’m better off with Kagami Tsurugi, and I thought you should know that.’"

Alya wrapped her arms around her tighter. "First of all, only brainless idiots would take status and money over love. Second, you’re the prettiest, smartest, and the most successful woman I've ever known, and third, you're an amazing and wonderful person who's on her way to becoming one of the best designers in Paris, so don’t you bring yourself down because of a stupid man who doesn't realize what he lost."

"It's my fault anyway. That's what I get for letting that stupid, cute boy kiss my stupid hand at a stupid fashion show in stupid Milan."

"You were five, M. And he was a dashing gentleman, helping you find your grandmother in a strange city you got lost in. You couldn't have known he's your soulmate. No one could have."

"Right. And he won’t recognize me, so I’ll be fine. He won’t even look a waitress’ way. Nothing to worry about. I’m very much certain the only person he’ll be looking at will be his future bride-to-be, so I have absolutely nothing to be scared of. Not that I’m scared, because I’m not. I just don’t want to be humiliated. Not that I’m already humiliated, but at least no one knows about it. That'll be awful if anyone else finds out—"

Alya grabbed her face and turned to look at her. "Marinette, breathe. Calm down."

She took a few deep breaths and tried to relax. Alya was right. This was fine. She’d be fine. Everything would be just peachy.

"As long as he doesn’t touch your right hand, no one will know. I still insist I go instead of you. Nino will understand—" 

"No. I’ll go. I can do it."

"Yes, you can, and you’ll be fine, but if anything happens, you have my number. I’ll be there in five minutes. You got me?"

Marinette nodded, pulling Alya into a hug. She was an amazing friend, and Nino and she were going to be insanely happy together. One day perhaps, Marinette would meet someone too. Someone who, just like her, was betrayed by their soulmate. Or someone who had lost theirs. Someone who would be kind and gentle and, like her, would just want to be happy. 

Someone who was not Adrien Agreste. 

Next >

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[ghostmartyr]

SnK 133 Thoughts

They’re trying to stop the apocalypse but they’re dummy traumatized and the clap of their sins keeps alerting the glow tree.

Kids, just remember: Body count doesn’t matter, it’s how you feel while producing that body count. If you’ve killed people to stop genocide, you are not immune to being party to genocide. ⭑⭒⋆

I’m being reductive because I’m not too eager to go over how not all murder is created equal again.

Going by a good faith read, I do think what the narrative is attempting to establish is that these characters all know what it’s like to be backed into a corner and do desperate things they’re horrified by.

Putting aside the extra psychological difficulties of his childhood preceding the choice to knock down the wall, Reiner believes he’s saving humanity. There’s an island full of devils, and he’s attacking them. He, Bertolt, and Annie are dumb kids who do what they’re told. Because they think it’s right, or because they want to go home, or just because they are dumb kids.

Armin’s killed plenty of people with the power of the Colossus. He can’t plead innocence; he attacks Liberio’s port intentionally, knowing exactly what terror the people on the ground will be going through.

Connie kills the friends he’s trained with for years, when the worst thing about Reiner and Bertolt revealing themselves is feeling betrayed by comrades he loves.

None of this is directly equivalent. Dumb children at war are trying their best. Always, this conflict has been orchestrated above their pay grade. RAB get abandoned behind enemy lines and are told to make the best of it. Armin destroys Marley’s port because Marley will not stop going after Paradis, and Eren has forced a renewed conflict that they need to move against fast. Connie betrays his friends because they’re okay with letting the rest of the world die.

No one on this ship has enjoyed any of this. They have consistently been doing their best with the information given to them while people with more power drag them into fights that never should have happened.

Shiganshina falls because Marley chooses to murder Paradis.

Liberio falls because Eren turns himself into Paradis’ only hope and puts himself into a situation he can’t win alone.

In the crudest way of putting it, these people are grunts. They’re not the ones who picked the game being played. They’re the ones being manipulated into war after war.

That’s why they look at each other without counting the bodies. It isn’t the scale of their actions that hits at this moment, it’s the decisions they’ve made to be part of it. They choose to keep fighting. When it creates an outcome they hate, what can they say? ‘Look what you made me do’?

Whatever their reasons, and whoever set up the board, they are the ones who participate. In this case, pure moral imperative is the driving force. Daz and Samuel die because they’re willing to let genocide go uncontested. That’s on them.

Guilt doesn’t work like that, though. Daz and Samuel die because they are killed. Connie kills them. He betrays their trust.

All of this is to say that the people on the ship truly do understand each other perfectly, even despite the difference in scale. It’s a bit on the nose, but I don’t think anything they’re going through is at odds with the people they are.

Applying that feeling to Eren is a feat of misguided grace that... hell, I don’t know.

As a human person, I like grace as a concept and want more of it. I don’t want the world to burn, I want the burning to stop, and for everyone to be okay in the end even if they don’t deserve it. A world where we all get precisely what we deserve seems an incredibly dark place to me. That doesn’t leave room for mercy or kindness. You get what you earn, and nothing more.

The more time we spend on this portion of the story, the more I’m inclined to think that the themes agree with me. Our heroes at this point aren’t full of the rage they’re entitled to. Every inch of them is tired, and they’re not here for more death. They’re willing to keep going, but even the thought of killing Eren, when he’s massacred thousands, makes them all hesitate.

Everyone wants to go home and have the fighting stop.

That’s all.

Whatever happened, and whose fault it is -- forget all of it, just give them a place to rest and have it be over.

Thematically, yay. I approve. Beautiful. We start out with a series that makes a name for itself almost entirely on the back of the spectacle of violence, and after years of participating in that violence, the main cast wants nothing to do with it anymore. Love it.

Within the plot, I am not in the mood to have Eren’s traumatized friends apologize for not understanding him.

I get it.

I get why they all feel this way.

I do not like reading it.

They’re projecting their own guilt on someone who has shown a reckless disregard for their lives and sanity.

They’re trying to reach Eren as a human being and friend when he’s done his absolute best to make himself unreachable.

That’s sort of the point Reiner thinks is being made. Eren has intentionally set them up as his adversary so that if he has to be doing all of this, maybe there’s still a chance someone can stop him.

Okay, fine.

It falls short for the same reason all of Eren’s stuff is falling short.

We don’t actually know what the fuck is going on with him. We’re guessing.

You know those picture puzzles you do as a kid? Draw a line from bubble 1 to bubble 2 to bubble 3, and eventually you will make a bunny. Or a dog, or flowers, or something that looks like a picture in the sloppy mess of numbers.

Eren’s general portrayal matches that of a toddler who doesn’t yet know his numbers, and understands the instructions to be that he’s trying to get to the last bubble by scribbling lines through all the other bubbles.

Look, it’s a bunny.

And Eren’s friends are all like, oh wow, that’s such a good job! We’re going to put it on the fridge!

Then people come over and are like, why is there a constellation of a deer jumping through a house on the fridge, but they hear the child did it and immediately are like, oh yeah, that’s the best bunny I’ve ever seen, I can’t draw like that.

The child, being a child, is like, ‘Damn right. I’m going to be in bunny museums.’

Meanwhile, I’m just going to come out and say it.

It’s not a fucking bunny.

What it is, I don’t know, but it is not a bunny, stop calling it a bunny, it is actively erasing the knowledge of what a bunny looks like in my mind.

So ends this skit on what Eren’s portrayal has been like.

Eren has decided that this is all necessary. He doesn’t like it, and wants someone to stop him, but he is totally going to do it, and he knows he’s going to do it because future vision told him so and he’s really sad about that even though he’s emotionally in a place where genocide sounds like the only way out but that is wrong.

I think I’ve said before that Eren getting to this place mentally isn’t too off the rails. His sanity has been deteriorating with each mission, and he’s nineteen. Snapping like this could arguably be expected.

But the last we see of Eren’s thoughts, we still have this back and forth of how he refuses to yield the future to fate, but he already feels condemned by that future because he chooses to cause it.

Eren is clearly trapped by this web of contradictions, but his motivational core is so obstructed that it’s hard to actually connect to. It is easier to say that Eren’s gone off the deep end than it is to spend any amount of time asking how Point A became Point 3.

That’s frustrating, as a reader. I don’t want to be told a story, I want to experience it.

Eren’s experiences are not universal.

I need some hand-holding here. There needs to be a few more clear indications of Eren The Person, and how the individual we know wrapped around to making these choices.

Hooray, he’s not taking away their powers.

The guy he let run his cult still nearly killed all of them.

Hooray, he’s protecting his island.

He just actively courted an international incident so everyone wants the island dead.

Yes, Eren thinks that hope is lost before he makes these choices. That’s how moving forward drags him to this place; he doesn’t have the vision to imagine a world where this isn’t happening.

If you don’t fight, you can’t win, and Eren’s still fighting. But he’s forgotten what winning looks like. All he knows is the dreary march forward.

I would like for that to be explicit, not me extrapolating. Because even as I’m typing all of that, and feeling like it makes sense, it has the confidence of tissue paper, and I know my numbers, but half the numbers making this bunny were missing, and I’m not an artist.

The story I’m digging around here for is one I could like, but I don’t trust that it’s actually the one being told, because too much feels unexplained and weird. You can’t just make your main character nuts and use that as an excuse for anything.

Well, okay, you can.

You shouldn’t.

Please don’t do that.

Which I guess leads us to Eren and OG Ymir doing a Shining twins thing.

Here is my wild speculation.

The Attack Titan is the only Titan capable of resisting the Founder. It cannot be controlled, it simply continues forward, fighting for freedom.

When Eren talks to Ymir, her eyes losing their shadows are the cue for him taking full control of the Founder.

Now we’re back here, and her eyes are shadowed again, with Eren’s joining the ride.

I think that where we’re going to end up is that Eren’s mental fragility made him incredibly susceptible to the Attack Titan’s core nature, and enough of that nature aligned with Eren’s that everything except pursuing a way forward fell away. The Attack Titan is Ymir’s furious will, and she’s had it suppressed for 2000 years. I don’t think either one is emotionally capable of surfacing and deciding to resist the urge to march forward and destroy this world that has cursed them so.

Making my theory that yeah, okay, Eren’s lost it, but he lost it with the help of ancient plot magic, which we are now seeing the full extent of.

Does that have any basis in anything?

Who the fuck knows.

But one thing is very clear: Eren’s not free.

“In order to gain my own freedom... I will take freedom away from the world. [...] You are all free.”

The Attack Titan “has always moved ahead, seeking freedom. It has fought on for freedom.”

Eren, embodiment of the Attack Titan, is the first one to hear Ymir in 2000 years. Going with the vaguely logical theory that Titans are all pieces of Ymir herself, the Attack Titan is the part that rebels against every indignity she bows to in life.

Zeke frees the Founder from its promise of peace. Eren frees Ymir from the chains tying her to the royal family’s will.

All that’s left is 2000 years of trauma, and the ability and will, for the first time, to lash out.

It’s not what you’d call surprising.

It’s the getting here that I take issue with. Now that we’re here, yeah, got it. But I really don’t feel like Eren’s journey here has been done well enough to capture the emotional rawness that is trying to be accessed. His friends are shouting for someone who is effectively dead, for all the presence he’s showing.

Then you’ve got Annie and Kiyomi sad.

ON A BOAT.

While Falco wants to be a Titan with WIIIIIIIIIIINGS.

Kiddos, you’re very cute, and I support you not wanting to sit still and do nothing while the world is ending, but I can’t begin to express how little I care.

Except that your families are alive and you two and Annie deserve to be reunited.

SO FINE, OKAY, FALCO CAN HAVE HIS WINGS AND SAY HI TO HIS PARENTS AND GABI CAN SAY HI TO HER PARENTS AND ANNIE CAN SAY HI TO HER DAD AND IT’LL ALL BE FINE DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT THE FUCK WE’RE GOING TO DO ABOUT EREN?

BECAUSE YEAH, I’M SURE THE AIRSHIPS ARE JUST GOING TO SPLODE HIM AND END ALL OF THIS AND EVERYONE WILL HOLD HANDS AND SING SONGS THAT THE EVIL HAS BEEN DEFEATED AND THAT WILL BE THE END OF IT.

Conversation: FAILED

Attack: probably FAILED

GO AHEAD, MANGA. SHOW ME THE DEUS EX MACHINA. I’M NOT GOING TO LIKE IT, BUT I AM PREPARED FOR IT.

inb4 yeah they just are going to bomb Eren with Armin that’s how we end this.

133 status: Still Looking For A Win Condition (This Ain’t It Chief)

[2manyfandoms2count]

#20, person A brushing person Bs hair, with ✨marichat (platonic or otherwise 👀)

Thank you for giving me an excuse to write more Marichat 💕 This is a little dumb but I hope it’s fluffy enough! (Also I think this count as both platonic and otherwise? Maybe?)

#20 person A brushing person Bs hair: Marichat

“I think I might get a haircut.” Chat Noir mused, lifting blond locks off of his face and studying them intently. 

He was lying on Marinette’s floor, one arm acting as a pillow. Marinette had offered him a space next to her on her chaise, but he’d refused; heat rose, and even the dozen centimetres that separated them could be enough to save him from heat shock. Not to mention, sitting next to Marinette tended to make him feel warmer than expected from sitting next to any other human. Or maybe it was just that he’d never had to sit next to anybody in this kind of heat before.

August in Paris was definitely too warm, and he sometimes regretted not being able to invite Marinette over to his place for identity reasons. His room had the distinct advantage of being well equipped in terms of air conditioning and not being located right under the roofs, which made the heat even more unbearable. Yet he found himself hanging out at Marinette’s more often than he did at the Mansion; what could he say - he favoured company over comfort. 

“Really?” Marinette turned towards him. She’d been mindlessly reading through an old fashion magazine, mostly for the slight gust of air she got every time she flicked a page over. 

“It’s getting too hot for his hair length.” He let go of the strand of hair, which fell in his eye. He blew it out of the way. “It’s long enough that it keeps the heat, yet too short to be pinned back, or something.”

“So what kind of haircut are you thinking of getting?” Marinette tilted her head, trying to picture him with a different hairstyle and failing miserably. Chat Noir wasn’t Chat Noir without his characteristic messy mane.

“I don’t know… Maybe… shave it all off?” He raked a hand through his hair. It wasn’t a completely serious thought. His father would never allow it. He repressed a cackle at the picture of a horrified Gabriel.

Marinette tried to imagine a bald Chat, and shuddered at the thought. “Would your ears just… be on your head, then?”

“That’s where they usually are.” He chuckled. 

“You know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes.“Please don’t do it, though.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shave my head.” He sat up to look her in the eye, and smirked.

Marinette rolled her eyes again. It was just like him to try and convince himself it was a good idea. “Well, it would probably be very obvious who you are. Blond boys in Paris? Plenty. Blond boys who suddenly decide to get rid of their hair? Less so.”

“That’s a very Ladybug excuse.” He poked her knee. 

“We aren’t friends for nothing.” She blushed slightly. “Can I help you find options? I could be your personal hair stylist for the day.” 

“That sounds fun!” He jumped to his feet. 

Marinette got up as well and dragged a chair in front of her dressing table so Chat could sit in front of a mirror. She picked up her brush, got rid of the few hairs that were stuck in it, and held it up for him to see. 

“Can I?”

“Of course!” He smiled and tilted his hair back a little.

Marinette delicately started untangling his hair. As she worked through it, she found that actually, untangling wasn’t the right word; although Chat’s hair was… questionably styled, it was actually pretty smooth.

“You have really nice hair, you know.” She said quietly, running a hand through his locks. Chat Noir let out a purr by way of thanks, which made her smile.

“So.” She took out a couple of bobby pins and clipped his hair back, liberating his forehead. He looked a little odd with his mask fully visible, and it made her chuckle. “It’s not exactly what it would look like if you cut it short, but I guess that’s as close as we’ll get without actually cutting it.”

Chat Noir made a face. “Nah, not convinced. Any other suggestions Princess?”

Marinette scrunched up her nose as she thought, mindlessly alternating between brushing his hair and raking her fingers through it. She just enjoyed the feeling of it. Chat Noir looked at her reflection and couldn’t help but find her adorable when clearly lost in thought. He witnessed her eyes light up as they landed on something in the background. 

“How about…” She stepped to his side and started brushing his bangs. “An Adrien Agreste-type cut?” Chat froze slightly as she tried pushing his hair out of the way, but he gently grabbed her hand before any irreparable damage was done.

“Too cliché. As much as I… admire? Adrien, I don’t really want to look like half the light-haired boys in Paris.” 

“Fair enough.” He let go of her hand, and she booped him on the nose before moving back behind him. “I’m sure anything would suit you, to be honest.”

She raked her hand through his hair once more. It was just so soft. She was half tempted to ask him about his hair products. She caught a mischievous glint in his eye before she could, though.

“Anything but a bald haircut.” She gave him a stern look.

“You’re no fun.” He pouted. 

“Just looking out for you.” She casually kissed the top of his head before realising what she was doing and blushing a deep crimson shade.

She locked eyes with him in the mirror and realised she wasn’t the only one whose complexion now would match Ladybug’s suit. 

They both agreed it was probably time for a break and a glass of cool lemonade.

Send me a number and a lovesquare pairing! (#3 is already in the works)

Others in the series: #4: Ladrien, #7: Marichat, #8: Marichat

[crimsonwolfie]

“I Can’t Lose You” — Hamish Duke x Reader (The Order)

Hi! So this is my first ever completed fanfic i have ever written so please give me feedback and if you want me to write more! This is a “The Order” fanfic because i’ve recently become obsessed with this show and in specific, Hamish Duke. Darn he’s so cute! Also there needs to be more fanfics for this fandom so i thought i’d try! Hope you guys like it!!! Sorry this one is a bit of a sad one, but sometimes sad ones are THE ones you know?

Warnings: character death, guilt, just overall sadness tbh. Don’t read if you’re in a good fluffy mood lmao

Word count: 3,500

Pairing: Hamish Duke x Reader (also slightly Knights x Reader)

Masterlist

Edward (or should i say, grand Magus)’s plan for world domination was going too smoothly, and everyone was worried. The Knights of St Christopher and Alyssa knew they had to do something, even if it meant death. Even though you were only human, not a knight nor a member of The Order, you still wouldn’t let anything happen to your friends. Especially Hamish - he’s different. You have a soft spot for him, an unrequited love even...never mind if he’s a little older than you.

You walk into the knights’ house to see Vera pottering around the room, searching through books and handling strange objects in her hands.

“The hell is she doing here?!” Lilith screams, eyes changing with rage.

“It’s okay, she’s here to help” Alyssa replies, shrugging Randall’s hands off of her shoulders

“...fuck that WHY ARE YOU HERE DAMNIT?! Lilith practically roars after hearing and seeing Alyssa’s presence. Yeah her memories came back, but so did emotions linked to them.

“Lilith please, you have to calm down.” Alyssa reaches her hands out in an attempt to comfort Lilith, only to realise it made things way worse. You stand there unable to trigger what is even happening...heck you even felt betrayed when you found out Alyssa wiped Lilith’s memories of the order...now she feels like someone you used to know. You look down and notice Lilith’s claws start to come out and quickly you run over to stop “Kilith” making an appearance.

“Lilith i’m so glad you’re okay, what happened??” You ask, hugging your friend who surprisingly returns the hug.

“Thank YOU for noticing i’m alive. SEE I CAN SAVE MYSELF, THANKS FOR YOUR HELP GUYS!” She shouts, knowing the boys can clearly hear her.

“They’re just dumb, stupid idiots who messed with the wrong Knight, that’s all.” She smirks

“Well i’m glad you’re okay. We had a plan, you know” I say, gently squeezing her shoulder

“Why wouldn’t you. You can’t survive without me” she laughs, although she’s got a point.

Alyssa looks over to us, hovers her gaze and then looks away. Even though i can’t read her mind, i still see how she looks at me and Lilith and remembers painful memories of how they used to be this close. I just don’t understand why she doesn’t listen to us when we all say that The Order is bad for her, it’s just going to destroy her humanity. Even Jack agrees.

Randall, Jack and Hamish run over slightly shocked to see Lilith standing in the doorway. See here’s the thing, when i see Randall, i get happy. But in a comfortable way, like a sibling like love. When i see Jack, i just get annoyed and aggravated since he’s always up to no good...but when i see Hamish, it’s like the world is in slow motion. Nothing else matters until you see his face, or know he’s okay. He’s like your safe house, your anchor that brings you back to comfort and reality.

“Oh my god Lilith you’re here! How are you? Are you hurt? What the fuck are you wearing?” Randall blabs on, checking Lilith everywhere for marks or enchanted knife stabs

‘Okay since when has Randall shown so much care towards Lilith?’ You think...seems a bit forced in your opinion but oh well.

“Lilith! Urm...we kidnapped a child for you” Hamish stutters, happy to see Lilith but also confused about what is happening right now

“I’ve been kidnapped?!” a small child pipes up from the corner chair, eyes wide open and comic book stretched over his chest

“Oh for god’s sake” Vera huffs whilst flicking her finger towards the small child, instantly knocking him unconscious

“You what?” Lilith chokes, slapping Randall’s hands away from her face “why would you do that? Wait...he thinks his son is his only son right? So when he gets the child back he’ll still lose at his plan?”

“Exactly. Wait we’re letting an innocent child get killed? Isn’t there some fool-proof plan to make sure no one gets killed?!” You remark, earning a few sorrowful glances at your humanity

“There isn’t another way. It’s the only plan we have i’m afraid” Hamish replies, stepping towards you.

Alyssa and Jack look towards each other in synchronisation, as if they have a plan.

“Okay i think i have an idea, but Alyssa i’ll need your help” Jack says, nodding his head hopefully. “Whatever happens, make sure no one gets hurt”

After Jack and Alyssa leave, you step to the side and begin thinking of ways that you can not only save thousands of innocent lives, but also help save those you hold closest - Hamish, Lilith, Randall and Jack. If Edward wants to sacrifice his own son, then what if...

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” You turn around to see Hamish behind you, looking down at you with eyes of concern and care. His hand is on your shoulder, rubbing small circles with his thumb

“Nothing, just worried that’s all” you reply, hoping he doesn’t see through your act. You know he wouldn’t approve of your thoughts, so you keep them to yourself.

“It’s going to be okay, he doesn’t know Jack is his first born and without him, he’s failed. We’re gonna be okay.” He pulls you into his chest, instantly calming your nerves. It feels like forever when he hugs you, and how you wish you could freeze time in that moment as you lean into his warm touch and burry your face into his chest, his grip tightening on your upper and lower back for support. You can hear his heart beating, making you smile into his chest.

“You know, you really are a special human being” he hums as he gently strokes your head with his thumb “not just because you have a heart of gold, but because you manage to light a room up even if tragedy occurs”

You can’t help but coo at his words, smiling a smile so big into his chest. You look up to see that adorable little smirk he does, with his hair hanging down and his eyes fixated into yours.

“Awhh, Hamish. Thank you” your cheeks blush as he chuckles, before he lets go of you. Moments like this are your favourite, always.

You look over to see Vera staring outside the window, a panicked look on her face. You’ve never known The Order as you’re not a member, but you’ve heard plenty enough from Hamish and the others to know they’re no good. And that goes for Vera - she only helps if she gets something out of it. None of them have any genuine good in their hearts unless it involved selfishness.

“Okay we’ve got a problem, you have visitors” she turns around, announcing like some high monarchy jester...you can’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“What do you mean? Who’s coming?” Randall asks

“It’s the Order, they’re here for the child” Vera replies

“Well they aren’t getting him. We have to stop them” Lilith cries, actual seriousness in her voice...’damn i’m so proud of her’ you think as you remember how she felt no remorse in killing before.

“She’s right. C’mon” Hamish agrees. As Randall and Lilith go out and their hides come out, Hamish pulls you to the side.

“Y/N, you have to stay in here. It’s too dangerous and i don’t want to lose you okay? We need you here” he looks restless and panicked, a look you haven’t seen on his face so genuine before.

“I’ll be right here, it’s fine. Go!” You reply, kissing him on the cheek as a way to say ‘i’m not losing you either, idiot’. He leans into your kiss, holding his cheek with a smile after and then steps out of the door.

Vera seems to be the only one left inside, so you ponder over to her in an attempt to begin a conversation with her. ‘Maybe she isn’t as bad as the others?’ you think.

“Hey, Vera?” You ask hesitantly

“Urm...yes? Y/N isn’t it?” She replies whilst looking into her book of potions and concoctions

“Yeah, i was just wondering about a spell that could shape shift you into something...or someone else...is there one?” You ask, weary of trusting her

“Of course there’s such spell, it’s like the basics of magic” she replies “why?”

“I was just wondering. I mean, i don’t think this whole plan will work and...”

“You want to help.” She finishes your sentence

“...yeah. I know i’m no knight or member of The Order but i still want to help.” You stutter, playing with your fingers, twirling them around each other

“I see. So you want to shapeshift into someone else?” She replies, turning towards me in curiosity

“I guess...” you begin as you trail on about your plan in order to save everyone and especially, to save Hamish.

Time goes by and you receive a call from Jack

“Jack what’s wrong?” You ask as you hear Jack’s heavy breathing on the other end of the line

“It’s Alyssa, Edward’s got her. He’s got her and won’t give her back until he gets his son back...” he’s running it seems, panic set in his tone and regret “It’s all my fault, it’s my fucking fault. An innocent person is going to die either way because of me now. It’s Alyssa or his second child” he chokes up, clearly about to break down

“Jack, hey, Jack listen to me...it’s NOT your fault, you tried to save everyone and it doesn’t work that way, much like magic - There’s always a price to pay.” You look up to Vera, who sympathetically smiles at you with a sad smile

“Just get back here and we’ll figure something out okay? We’ll get her back, Jack. I promise” you softly say, hearing Jack calm down and agree. You hang up and linger for a second on your home screen - a picture of you and your friends. Hamish is sitting next to you with his arm around you tightly and his other arm holding a cocktail. He’s staring down at you laughing. Randall is on the other side of you, laughing with his head up as if he was mid throwing his head back in laughter. He’s holding one of your hands whilst his other arm is near Lilith. You’re leaning into Hamish’s chest, giggling and looking down with a blushed cheeks, whilst Lilith is sitting next to Randall but not touching anyone (no surprise there) and looking down at Jack laughing. Jack is in front of you all, making a silly face and lying on his side, with one leg up in the air and arm tucked under his head. You’ve all got smiles on your faces and look like a proper family, which is exactly how you see them all.

Vera sees you staring down at your phone, aware that you’re doing something she has never seen anyone willing to do before “You don’t have to do this, there must be another way” She pleas, but you both know no other way is guaranteed to fail Edward of his task. “It’s not too late. Think of what you’re losing”

“Vera i know, but i’m thinking of what i’m earning for those i love” i reply, tears welling in my eyes. Vera understands my position and agrees to help me.

An hour later

“Where’s Y/N? She should be here! She said she would keep safe” Hamish runs up and down the house looking for you, unaware of what’s to come. He’s beginning to get restless and worried more than ever now

“It’s okay, she said she went to get supplies for me. She’ll be back” Vera lies

“We don’t have anymore time. Edward will need a sacrifice by 12, which means we have 20 minutes. And if we don’t give him a sacrifice he’ll kill Alyssa” Jack cries

“I need to give him someone. Guys scrap the plan, i need to go. I have to. I’d never forgive myself if Alyssa dies. Not because of me” Jack screams, anger venting inside him. Randall approaches and tries to calm Jack down before things get messy or before something he regrets happens.

“I need to know Y/N is safe, i couldn’t live if she got hurt” Hamish joined in, gaining looks towards him in surprise but also...guilt...from Vera.

Hamish notices Vera’s guilty look and instantly begins changing into Tundra through anger built inside of him but also...fear.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?” He practically growls at Vera, who holds her hands up to defend herself (as if that’s gonna stop a werewolf pftt). Vera begins to back away in fear of getting eaten alive, but Randall and Jack start to hold Hamish back, as his hide begins to hide again even as he fights against Jack and Randall’s grips

“It was her idea. She’s gone to stop Edward” Vera replies, eyes wide and hands ready to cast a spell as blood seeps from her palm.

“NO we need to stop her” Hamish cries as he breaks free from the boys’ arms and runs out the door, with the others following.

—

Jack enters the temple to see Edward preparing for his final task - the sacrifice. Alyssa is standing to the side, hands behind her back. She’s been enchanted from performing any spells, as Edward clearly saw he couldn’t trust anyone anymore. Upon Jack’s entrance, Alyssa runs up to him and hugs him, suddenly realisation sets into her glare.

“Jack what are you doing here, you can’t be here he’ll kill you!” She whispers, gripping onto his arm.

“It’s okay, at least you and everyone else will be safe” he replies, rubbing her hand on his arm

“Jack, i don’t see my child...you do know what a trade means don’t you?” Edward mocks, standing straight and tall in an attempt to threaten Jack.

“Grand Magus, you need your first born for the spell to work. Correct? Therefore, i’m here.” He stands tall and strong, stepping in front of Alyssa in a way to protect her. Edward looks around sheepishly, confused at what is happening. He takes a step forward and demands Alyssa tells him the truth. “Is this true, Alyssa? Don’t lie to me. I will know.” He booms, face inches away from Alyssa’s.

Alyssa hesitates before Edward threatens to come closer “okay it’s true. Yes, Grand Magus. He’s your son” she cries, tears threatening to spill as her words came out.

“Very well. Honourable of you, Jack. I must admit. However, that is not a quality you pursue from me.” Edward mocks, as he drags Jack towards the table where the book is. Jack climbs onto the table, as Edward starts summoning words and phrases, eventually producing a knife. Magus takes out the knife from the book

“NO!” Alyssa cries out, tears streaming and hands trembling. Edward ignores her screams and raises the knife in the air, thickening the suspense. Footsteps can be heard from behind the temple doors, lots of them. They sound as if they are quickening towards the door. Jack’s face drops a single tear as Edward releases his arms from the air and stabs him in the chest with the knife. As soon as the knife has been released, the doors burst open and Jack appears. Edward double takes towards Jack, who is standing by the door with Hamish, Vera, Randall and Lilith. He then looks towards his “son” in front of him, only to see him fade into Y/N. Alyssa screams as she falls to her knees. Edward’s timer chimes, as he roars in pain and anger at his failure

“NO. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT” he screams at Y/N’s motionless body on the table. As he stares into the eyes of those before him, he directs his words at Jack

“See you in hell, son.” before he demises away. Hamish and the others run towards Y/N on the table, blood seeping out from her mouth and stab wound. Tears are shed from each person in the room, even Vera. Hamish holds you in his arms, praying that there is a way Y/N can be saved. “You promised me you’d keep safe. You promised me you wouldn’t get hurt” he chokes as tears pour from his bloodshot eyes.

“I...i’m sorry” you stutter, blood quickly spilling as you speak. “I need-“ you’re struggling to speak without choking on your own blood. “I needed to...to make sure you were...were safe” you cough up a pile of blood, as Hamish holds you tighter.

“We need you, i need you” he loudly wails as everyone surrounds you

“I love you, Hamish Duke” you manage to say before coughing even more and gasping for a breath

“Y/N why did you do this” Jack asks as guilt and fear cloud his voice. He grabs your hand and wipes your hair out of your face. His face is completely wet with tears, as well as everyone else’s.

“It’s the only way, to know you’d all be safe” you reply, your voice breaking with tears “and it worked” you half heartedly chuckled

“There’s got to be a way we can save her” Lilith cries out, looking towards Vera and Alyssa. They hang their heads low as their tears drop to the floor. There wasn’t a way, and you knew that. That’s why Vera warned you, but you knew the price you had to pay.

“What...what about a hide? What if that will heal her?” Randall pleads, looking up to his fellow Knights, to which they shake their head. A hide wouldn’t want a dying host.

“I love you so much and I didn’t get to tell you how i felt, Y/N. You’re the one person who makes me smile like never before and we never got the chance to go on dates” Hamish is rocking from side to side holding you in his arms, you look up to him and faintly smile at his confession

“It’s okay” you reply, bringing a bloody hand up to his face as you stroke his cheek with the last of your energy. He cups your hand with his hands, wet with his tears and your blood. His face has lost colour from watching the love of his life dying in his arms

“No it’s not okay. You can’t leave me, i can’t lose you. Y/N don’t close your eyes, don’t you dare close your eyes” he screams as his body shakes violently from shock and tragedy.

“Hamish, i’m alw-“ you’re interrupted from a violent coughing fit, as your face loses colour even quicker. “-always with you” you carry on “i have always loved you, and will till my last breath” you whisper as tears fall towards your pale, cold cheeks. Lilith and Randall are holding each other as Lilith is trying to stop your bleeding. It’s not working though. Hamish leans down and kisses your forehead, lingering for a moment as if he is treasuring this moment for an eternity to come.

“I’m thankful for you all” you begin, slightly lifting your head to see your family around you “you’re all my family, and i love you all so much” as you’re addressing them all, they whimper in pain and grab your hands, squeezing them tightly. Randall kisses your cheek and puts his forehead on yours, leaving a final kiss on your forehead. Lilith grips your hand tighter than ever before, thinking of your friendship and how she sees you as a sister, and to see her sister dying in front of her is something that will always haunt her. Hamish doesn’t want this to be real...he planned how he would tell you he loved you, where he would take you for your first date, the places you two would travel for road trips, the pets you two would get together, where he would propose to you...now he can’t. He never planned on telling you he loved you on your death bed, it’s destroying him.

“Thank you for everything, my family” you mutter faintly as your energy is leaving you. As you see the faces around you, you see what you always imagined you’d see before you die - your family surrounding you. That’s how you wanted it. With that, you smile one last time at Hamish, stroke his cheek with your thumb, then everything goes black and your body becomes numb. Your hand falls to the floor, and the Knights howl into the air with grief, pain and anger. They knew the Order was to blame for your death, and they would not let your death be in vain. You’d always be remembered in their pack, and with every moment they lived, they’d take a moment to think of you, and think of their love for you. How you saved people you didn’t know, and how you did it for them. Hamish never stopped thinking about you, even years after your death. He was different after that, they all were.

Hope you guys liked it! Let me know if you want me to do more and who you want me to write about :) love always 🖤

[ellewritesathing]

Faking It  -  IV

Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 4

Word-count: 3.4k+

A/N: this gif has nothing to do with this part but i thought it was cute and couldn’t find a kitchen gif that fit. hope you enjoy the drama lmao 💕

Of all the ways you saw taking Caliban’s hand the day you met, you hadn’t anticipated the very obvious outcome: that you’d develop feelings for him. Actual, real, not fake feelings. But it’s not like it was your fault - no, you blamed the blonde asshole himself. They just didn’t make guys like him in Greendale, so he completely blindsided you by being … well, himself.  

He was intimidating enough that other guys left you alone, and - even though plenty of people found him as charming as you did - he made it very clear that he had no interest in any of them. He was infuriatingly good at everything he did and he looked good while doing it. He laughed at all your shitty jokes and actually listened to you when you spoke. How the hell were you supposed to not be attracted to someone who would sit with you while you worked on your art projects and quote poetry in an offhand effort to distract you? 

Who the hell could even quote poetry in real life? 

Not you. Not anyone that you’d ever met. 

Caliban was just different in all the ways that made your heart race. 

The fact that your friends liked him didn’t hurt either. Harvey still rolled his eyes whenever Caliban showed up or made the others laugh, but his anger must have subsided at least a little because you’d caught them joking around between practices. Theo loved Caliban; the two of them had inside jokes, knew each other’s lunch orders, and partnered up for chemistry. Roz would read a book and annotate it before handing it off to Caliban to read, and she liked that Caliban made you smile. Sabrina liked having someone to do dumb and borderline illegal stuff with. They liked him, and now you liked them. The fuckers. 

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Sabrina asked, nudging you with her elbow. “You’ve been staring at the baseball field for like five minutes.”

“Of course I’m listening,” you lied. You sat up straighter and tugged your clothing back into place. “Quite frankly, I’m insulted you’d think that I wasn’t paying attention to The Great Kinkle Family Reunion.” 

Sabrina tilted her head and smiled politely, that’s how you knew trouble was coming. “Then tell me what you should do when Uncle Tristan starts talking about horses,” she said. 

“Uh …”  

“Exactly.” Sabrina laughed and looked down at the field where Harvey, Theo, Caliban, and the rest of the team were running laps. “I’ve been to every family get together since I met Harvey, and they all end horribly. Caliban’s mom was really sweet to host one, but she’s in way over her head. Have you met her, by the way?” 

“No,” you said. You couldn’t tell if that was weird or not. Were fake girlfriends supposed to meet their partner’s mothers? “But I’m kinda surprised she’s doing this given everything I’ve heard about her and the Kinkles. They weren’t exactly the most supportive of her.” 

“Yeah, I don’t know why Harvey’s such a sweetheart when the rest of the family is … It was probably Tommy, now that I think about it,” Sabrina said. She shook her head and turned to look at you before taking your hands in hers. “I just wanted to check-in and make sure you’re ready for this.” 

“Brina, I can handle this.” You squeezed her hands reassuringly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a pretty mean right hook. Ask Colin Anderson. If there’s a fight, I’ll be golden.” 

Sabrina laughed and let go of your hands. “I’m trying to prevent that fight, but good to know.” 

You laughed and bumped her with your arm. “Looks like practice is letting out. You wanna head down?” 

“Nah.” Sabrina put on her brightest smile and waved down to a very tired-looking Harvey. “Let them de-stink first.” 

---

After two weeks of prep and cover stories, the day of the Great Reunion was here. You’d woken up disgustingly early in order to get yourself together and drive over to Caliban’s to help them set everything up. 

You weren’t sure what you expected their house to look like, but clashed with the black BMW parked in the garage. It was a sweet, two-story house with a wraparound porch and balloons in the front yard. The house was painted a soft sunshine shade of yellow and had rocking chairs, hanging plants, and rose beds in the front. It was the picture-perfect house for anyone other than Caliban, but it still fit. 

Different. 

Gathering up your nerve and the rest of your belongings, you made your way to the door and pressed the doorbell. The tiny pothos plant felt as awkward as you did while it sat in your hands and waited for someone to open the door. 

Thank God it was Caliban and not his mom. 

He smiled amusedly at your plant before looking up at you. “Is that for me?” 

“I know it’s a lame gift but I didn’t know if your mom was allergic to cut flowers and I’m not old enough to buy her wine,” you said in a rush. You frowned slightly and tilted your head. “Well, not legally at least.” 

Caliban laughed and reached out to take one of your hands and lead you inside. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” 

You didn’t know what else to say as Caliban led you to the kitchen. The house was as much of a surprise inside as it was outside, and it smelled like freshly baked bread. It was colorful and covered in old photos. He seemed very at home here and lighter than you’d ever seen him elsewhere. No, not lighter. Happier.

“Wait.” You stopped dead and let go of Caliban to reach out for a photo of the cutest little boy with missing front teeth and a mess of blonde curls around his dirty face. “Is this you?” You couldn’t help the laugh that came out when Caliban looked pained at your discovery. “Aw, Abercrombie, you were so cute! What’s on your face?” 

Caliban sighed and took the photo out of your hand, looking embarrassed for probably the first time in his life. “I was seven years old and I liked eating chocolate. Is that a problem?” 

“Oh, no, no, no,” a woman said as she rounded a corner and laughed. She had the most beautiful long, brown hair and kind eyes. “You didn’t just like chocolate. If you came anywhere near it, you used to eat yourself into a sugar coma. I couldn’t bake anything around you without you eating the batter before it even got into the oven.” 

She laughed and ruffled Caliban’s hair before smiling at you. You didn’t know anyone could ruffle his hair without losing a hand. 

“You must be the lovely new girlfriend I’ve heard so much about,” she said. “I’m Isobel. Is that for me?” 

Isobel pointed at your little pot plant and jolted you back to life. “Uh, yeah,” you said and held the plant out to her. Her hands were warm as she took the plant from you. “I wasn’t too sure what to bring but I didn’t want to come empty-handed.” 

“Oh, not at all. This little guy is perfect!” Isobel lifted up the plant to look at it. “I’m going to give him some water and put him in the front. Do you guys want to get settled in the kitchen so long?” 

“Of course,” Caliban said with a gentle smile. His mom gave him another playful bump and disappeared into some other part of the house while Caliban held a hand out to you. “Shall we?” 

“Who are you?” you teased with wide eyes as you took his hand in yours.

You followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the breakfast bar. They were here for maybe a month and their house already felt like more of a home than yours ever did. How they afforded it all, you had no idea, but Caliban never spoke about his birth dad and you didn’t want to push. All you knew was he gave Caliban his blonde hair and bone structure, nothing more and nothing less.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sight of Caliban in a sunflower printed apron. Clearly, your efforts to contain your amusement weren’t nearly as stellar as you thought they were because Caliban raised an eyebrow at you over all the baking supplies on the counter. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked. 

“I didn’t peg you for an apron guy is all,” you said with a small shrug, doing your best to sound nonchalant and not totally, completely chalant. 

“I don’t like getting my clothes dirty,” Caliban said defensively. “Without an apron, anything can stain your shirt.” 

“I think I’ll take the risk,” you said as you tapped the counter. “I trust myself and don’t think anyone’s going to splatter batter on me.” 

“Batter, maybe not …” Caliban tilted his head to the side. “But flour?” 

“Flour?” 

Before you had the chance to ask what he meant, Caliban threw a handful of flour at you. He laughed at how shocked you were and you took that opportunity to reach across the counter and throw some flour at him. Soon enough the two of you were running around the kitchen, covered in flour, and laughing until your sides hurt. 

Caliban wrapped his arms around you and scooped you up, ignoring your pleading and cries that were cut short by laughter. You were still mid-air with Caliban’s face close to your own when Isobel came back. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Isobel put her hands out to get your attention. “We have guests coming in an hour and the two of you are making a mess in my kitchen.” 

Caliban set you down, but the two of you were still tangled up and filthy. You didn’t know what to say to the woman you’d met fifteen minutes ago and whose kitchen you’d subsequently ruined.

Isobel laughed and shook her head. “It’s my own fault for leaving this one unsupervised,” she teased, pointing a finger at Caliban as she made her way around to start cleaning up. “Go clean yourselves up. Come back when you don’t like friendly ghosts.” 

Luckily for you, flour was relatively easy to get out because you weren’t wearing dark colors for once. It took a while to get it out of your hair and make it look presentable, but it was hard to be too mad at the mess when it was such a fun time making it. 

When you got back downstairs, you could hear people laughing and talking in the kitchen. It was still too early for guests but it was clear that it wasn’t just Caliban and his mom. 

You were right. You rounded the corner to find Caliban freshly-changed, his mom kneading some dough, and a very pretty redhead with big doe-eyes all laughing at some inside joke. It made you feel painfully other. 

“Oh, Luce,” Isobel said when she noticed you come in, waving you over. “You have to meet Caliban’s girlfriend. She’s a gem.” 

Luce ... As in Lucy? Lucy from California? Harvey’s first crush? Lucy. 

This was going to end badly. 

Lucy tilted her head as she turned to look at you. You could see the gears turning in her head as she looked you over. “Girlfriend?” she asked with a friendly (but fake) smile.

“The one and only,” you said with an over-confident smile as you walked over and interlaced your hand with Caliban’s. You wrapped your other hand around his arm, just like the first day you met. You introduced yourself with a friendly yet fake smile of your own. 

“You guys moved up here a few months ago and Caliban’s completely forgotten about me,” Lucy teased to Isobel. She moved some hair out of her face and looked over at you again. “He used to tell me everything. We were like this.” She crossed her index and middle finger over each other with a smile. 

You’d have liked to show her one of your fingers. 

But you didn’t. All you did was smile and make some polite conversation while not letting go of Caliban. You weren’t sure why you were being so defensive. It’s not like you and Caliban were actually dating, but you didn’t like Lucy. Not only did she break Harvey’s heart and cause all the damage you’d spent the better part of two months fixing, but she also just rubbed you the wrong way. 

“Okay, not to ruin all the fun,” Isobel said after a while. “But guests should be coming soon. Why don’t you kids make sure everything is set up in the back and keep an ear out for any early birds?” 

“Sure thing,” Lucy said, hopping off her seat and leading the way to the backyard. 

You started following when Caliban caught your arm and said something to his mom about getting more supplies from the garage. He didn’t say anything else as he led the way and neither did you, but that was mostly just because you were being petty. 

Caliban led you to the middle of the garage and tugged on the old light to illuminate the dusty room around you. He lifted your intertwined hands and folded them over each other as he thought about what he was going to say. 

You couldn’t wait that long. 

“So, what’s the deal with you and Lucy? And I want the truth this time.” 

Caliban laughed and shook his head as he looked up at the old light above you. He took a breath before saying, “Lucinda’s my best friend, pretty much my only friend before yours so kindly took me in. If I’d known she’d be here today, I would have said something.” 

“Wait, you were best friends with the girl who broke up your family?” you asked. 

“She apologized,” Caliban said. “And, besides, you’re friends with Harvey.” 

“Harvey’s never made out with me,” you said, untangling your hand from his so that you could cross your arms over your chest. 

Caliban narrowed his eyes slightly as he took in your newly defensive stance, and then he laughed without saying anything else. He looked amused when he met your scowling gaze again. “I can’t believe you’re jealous,” he said. “Don’t misunderstand me, it’s incredibly attractive but-” 

“I am not jealous,” you said. “I couldn’t care less.” 

“I’m sure,” Caliban said with a sarcastic smile. He rolled his eyes as he stepped closer and cupped your face before leaning down to be millimeters away from your face. “Forget about her, alright? I assure you, you’re the only fake girlfriend for me.” 

Before you had the chance to say something witty in return, the garage door flew open and the devil herself stood in the opening. 

“There you are!” Lucy said. “Cal, I need help with these streamers. I’m way too short to get them where your mom wants them.” 

“I’ll be right out,” Caliban said without taking his eyes off yours. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before taking a step back and leaving you in the dusty and dim garage. 

You shot a warning text to Harvey about Lucy before you went out to help the others. Though he never answered, he must have got it because he was surprisingly okay when he and Sabrina got there. You and Sabrina shared a look when Lucy got a bit handsy with her hello, but neither of you said anything. 

That’s how most of the get together went; you and Sabrina sharing secret, sarcastic looks and staying out of trouble. Well, mostly. You still didn’t know what to say when Uncle Tristan started talking about horses, but Caliban came to your rescue and the rest was smooth sailing. 

Until an hour went by when you couldn’t find Caliban anywhere. You asked around but no one had seen him, but his mom pointed you in the direction of his room. Isobel held onto your arm before you could leave. 

“Um, I’m sorry if this seems a bit strange but I …” Isobel smiled and looked down at her hand on your arm before letting go, clearly trying to respect whatever boundaries you may have had. “Caliban’s been a lot happier since we moved here and I think that has to do with you. I just wanted to say thank you.” 

“Oh, uh- It’s nothing. I’m just a girl and I’m sure Caliban’s brought a few of us around by now with cheekbones like that,” you said with a smile. 

“No, Caliban’s never brought anyone home before,” Isobel said, looking like she was trying to remember anything to the contrary. “Sorry, hun, I’ve gotta go. Jan’s calling me over. Good luck with the search!” 

“Thanks,” you said quietly. 

Isobel disappeared into the sea of Kinkles and you made your way to Caliban’s room. You took your time going up the stairs, looking at all the photos on the wall as you did. It was nice to see that Caliban was just as angry and angsty now as he was at  14 years old. 

It was strangely quiet upstairs compared to the rest of the house and the party in the backyard. Quite enough that you could hear someone giggling upstairs, someone decidedly not Caliban. 

Roz would have told you to face it head-on and not to sneak around like a creep. Thankfully, Roz wasn’t there to say anything. 

You tiptoed as casually as you could to Caliban’s room. The room felt more like the Caliban you knew than the rest of the house did: big windows without any blinds, a tornado of books and sketches on every surface available, and a very pretty redhead making out with him. 

“She kissed you, huh?” you asked, echoing the story of when they were younger before turning on your heel and slamming the door behind you. Your heart ached annoyingly when Caliban called out for you as he followed behind you, but your brain told it to suck it up until you were out of the house.

By sheer force of will, you made it back downstairs without turning around, but then Caliban managed to get a hold of your hand and spin you around to face him. 

“Would you please let me explain?” Caliban asked. 

“No,” you said, pulling your hand away from him. “Look, it’s not like you have anything to explain anyway, okay?” He reached out for you again and you took a step back so you wouldn’t be confused by his touch. “You and me? We were a fake relationship. Maybe this is the universe saying it’s time it came to a real end.” 

You knew what he’d say if you weren’t arguing. He’d ask you, with that annoying smile of his, when you started letting the universe tell you what to do. Or he’d make some comment about the universe being a bastard. But all he did now was set his jaw and look down at his hand. 

“What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying this is it,” you said. “Goodbye, Caliban.” 

You weren’t sure why you expected him to say something else, to fight for your fake relationship, but all that expectation just led to disappointment. Caliban flexed his hand but didn’t say anything else as you pushed past him to get your stuff from the kitchen so you could rush to your car to cry. 

Harvey was tapping on your window just before you started the car. Curse your five-minute breakdown for being long enough for him to notice you were gone. 

“What?” you asked as you rolled down the window. 

“Are you okay?” Harvey asked. “You ran out of there so fast-” 

“You were right, okay?” You put your car in reverse before looking back up at him. “Caliban’s not a good guy and you warned me. Will you just let me go so I can cry somewhere that’s not here?” 

“Hey, you know that’s not what I meant,” Harvey said softly, reaching through the window for you. “Let me come with-” 

“No. Go have fun with your family. I need to get out of here.” 

“But-” 

“Harvey, move or I will drive over your foot.” 

You didn’t think he was going to do it, but Harvey took a very reluctant step back and put his hands up in surrender. He wasn’t going to fight for you either, not that you’d given him much of a chance. Harvey was stood there, watching you drive away until he disappeared in your rearview mirror. 

Music blared in an attempt to drown out your thoughts, but there was one you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried. Sabrina was right - every Kinkle family get together ended horribly.

Tagged:  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​​  @foji2000​​  @mschfavngz​​  @artaxerxesthegreat​​  @thxmagic​​  @strawberriesandknives​​  @xealia​​  @hotmessindisguise​​  @reheated-coffee​​  @shelby-x​​  @perseny-blog​​  @millie-753​​  @luneerius​​  @shizzybarnaclee​​  @lettherebelovex​​  @throughparisallthroughrome​  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz​  @mariamermaid​  @nqbmf​  @drrramaaaqweeen​ 

[kikyozoldyck]

crappy birthday

PAIRING: hidan x reader SUMMARY: your soulmate is shit at birthdays WARNINGS: swearing, violence, descriptions of murder, shitty poetry courtesy of hidan

You wake up on your birthday and don’t feel any different. You go about your daily routine like you do every other day because, as far as you’re concerned, today is like every other day. You’re hardly expecting chocolates because you have no significant other or even friends who might give you sweets to snack on, and even before the incident, you were hardly one to celebrate yourself, although you vaguely remember your parents throwing some ridiculous party for you every year, in fact, your last real, clear memory of them is the three-tiered, casino-themed birthday cake your mother made for you (and proceeded to bleed out all over later that same evening.) 

Oh, well. C’est la vie, and all that, right?

It’s a nice day, you notice once you’ve gotten dressed and wandered out into your kitchen. Not too cold, and certainly not too hot, with a nice breeze, perfect for enjoying a morning that cute little tea shop down the street, with some tea and scones and a book to keep you company.

It’d be nice to share it with someone, if you had anyone. 

(You do have one person, your mind supplies unhelpfully, you’ll always have him.)

You ignore that one, disgusting, traitorous thought in favor of grabbing a worn paperback off your shelf, tying your coat around your waist, toeing on your shoes, and opening your front door.

And then you stop in your track and stare. At the body. On your doorstep

“What the fuck, Hidan?” You swear to yourself, though, you can’t say that you’d be too surprised if the creepy fuck just happened to be close enough to hear it. 

And then Mrs. Sato from next door comes out, humming merrily under her breath as she locks the door behind her before turning to you.

“Good morning, dear. Such a lovely day, isn’t it?”

You smile back, just a little fixedly. “The loveliest.”

“Oh, well! Best enjoy it while it lasts!” Mrs. Sato bobs her grey head a few times and toddles past, stepping around the corpse, like it isn’t there. “Have a nice day, dear.”

“You too, Mrs. S.” You reply politely, finger tapping impatiently against the doorframe as you wait for her to disappear down the stairwell. Then you’re crouching down in the blink of an eye, every sense zeroing in on the body, and that’s when you realize, the body is still breathing.

And that means there’s definitely some weird, ancient, Jashinist ninjutsu involved because aside from the fact that your next-door neighbor didn’t so much as bat an eyelash as she passed, there’s also 1) a hole carved into the chest of the body, meticulously and precisely heart-shaped, just big enough for you to peer inside and watch the exposed organ beat, and 2) the body isn’t just anybody, it’s your childhood rival — Funai Yuka.

You stare for a moment longer, oddly mesmerized by the physical thump of the blood-red heart that you can both hear and see. It is so gorgeously delicate in this one moment, under your complete mercy.

Then, cautiously, you reach out and tug lightly at one tail of the intricately tied bow around Funai’s arms and torso, just below her breasts but above her bound wrists. It is also linked with a red ribbon.

And there’s a card tucked between Funai and the ribbon, one that you retrieve now. It isn’t anything fancy, note hastily scrawled on what looks to be the back of a soba shop receipt with a doodled version of Hidan, covered in Jashinist symbols and what looks like blood, handing a heart — the conventional symbol, not the organ — out to an equally crudely drawn version of yourself. 

You flip it over, and in a slightly messy black scrawl, the card reads,

This dumb bitch thought she was better than you so I Killed her to prove that Nobody is as hot as you P.S. Happy Birthday 

It isn’t signed, but you read it a second time, then a third. And then you laugh, bright and bold in the crisp winter morning, genuine and amused because you didn’t even know Hidan knew what a tanka was — let alone that he could write one.

You look down at Funai again, and it really is sobering to see her like that. Your mind travels back to your childhood, all those long days spent practicing your taijutsu in your parent’s yard in hopes of maybe surpassing her. 

She’d been your worst enemy sure, but she’d been your best friend too. She was the first person you told when you turned twelve, and Hidan’s name appeared on your arm. 

(“Just Hidan?” She’d sneered as you showed her, “hmph. Guess he’s not from any clan. Makes sense, an average soulmate for such an average —”

“—shut up, Bug Queen!” You’d interrupted, tackling her into the dirt, because the name on her hip was Torune Aburame, and everyone knows that the Aburame are total bug-fucking creeps.)

You realize that you’re still smiling when the memory fades. You can almost hear Funai in the back of your mind scolding you about how it’s bad practice for shinobi to show their emotions so freely. 

So, first thing’s first then.

You seize Funai by the throat and haul her inside, slamming the door behind you. Not a drop of blood spills from the open wound as you drag your friend onto your kitchen floor. The tile might have to be sacrificed to the cause, but you’ll just have to deal.

You pull the bow loose, and just like that the genjutsu breaks, Funai’s eyes begin to flutter. She goes from unconscious to fully awake in about three seconds. It’s honestly a little impressive, her memories clearly unaffected if the terror and the fury bleeding into her golden irises are anything to go by, but it’s already too late. 

You’re already rooting around your drawers for a knife clean and sharp enough to mercy-kill her with. She says something, but it’s muffled by the gag and all the blood in her mouth — though you know her well enough by now to know that it’s probably not happy birthday. 

Whatever it is, it’s too late anyway, because you’ve already sunken your entire hand into her chest, palm and fingers wrapped snugly around the rapid-fire recoil of your rival’s heart, by the time she can do anything more than fail at squirming away.

You sigh, because you’re sympathetic, really.

“If it’s any consolation, Bug Queen, you make a great birthday present.”

Then you rip her heart out with one smooth twist of your arm. That weird, old-world soulmate magic floods your system, running along your veins and imprinting into the very essence of your being, with a single glowing soul bond pulsing at the back of your mind and anchoring you to reality so that you aren’t overwhelmed.

--

(And you weren’t always like this, okay?

You used to be a normal person, with normal friends, and normal hobbies, and normal parents that loved you.

But on your twentieth birthday, you received a letter in the mail — the envelope was big and red, and it had the words ‘to my soulmate’ stamped on the front. You were so ridiculously excited.

When you opened it, it went off and destroyed the entire house and killed everyone inside, everyone except, well — you. 

You didn’t show the team of ANBU investigators the card that came a day later. 

It was a stick-figure drawing of your home blowing up with your friends and family inside it. Their bodies are scattered to bits over the page in a bloody mess with the words:

‘Sorry I couldn’t be there in person. I hope you liked the gift! :) Love you. — xoxo your soulmate’ scrawled hastily at the bottom.)

(After that, you begin to mark the calendar. It is a simple red X on a single day out of the year. There is no indication of what it is for, but you know.)

— A year later, you get home from a few hours spent at the training grounds, only to find an innocuous-looking briefcase leaning against the door of your apartment. 

Your heartbeat quickens, and you groan, stooping to pick it up, plucking up the card as well from where it’s slipped into the handle.

Another Hidan original, you note as you duck into your apartment and place the briefcase on the dinner table. 

The drawing is surprisingly minimalist considering Hidan’s usual style, it’s an artlessly drawn picture of you, butt-naked holding miniature globe in your poorly proportioned hands.

Is he gonna blow the whole world up this time? You think with a sigh and flip the card open. In the same sloppy handwriting as before, you read,

Don’t be a pussy. This is not a bomb, okay? You will like this gift.

You thumb the dark lettering before turning to the briefcase and opening it. It actually takes you several long seconds to realize what it is exactly that you’re looking at.

There are files inside, sheaves of papers tucked surprisingly neatly into folders, and—

You reach inside, where two passports are shuffled into one corner. 

One has your name, your personal information — all chillingly accurate. 

One doesn’t. 

Both have your face.

You set those aside, and with a sense of growing urgency, you fumble to open the folders and rifle through the papers.

They’re-

They’re identification papers. Two sets. One is fakes. But the other—

Hidan has restored your identity, you realize, and for a moment, you don’t even remember how to breathe.

(These days, you can get by. You have plenty of cash to use, so you don’t need a job, and so long as you’re not crossing country borders, you have no use for travel papers.)

But it also shackles you, the lack of an identity, walking around like a corpse.

Paying for Hidan's crimes, all these years, even now, as if almost burning alive and watching your entire family die and losing your goddamn mind weren’t enough to atone for the crime of simply having a soulmate.

And now…

You pick up another file with trembling fingers and flick that open. It’s a manuscript. It’s your manuscript, from when you were a writer, a really fucking good one—you might add, and despite having to always battle that hack Jiraiya for the spot on the best seller’s list, which honestly never made sense to you because your works were clearly better — but you suppose there's no accounting for taste, you enjoyed what you did, creating, building your stories.

And now you can do it again. A piece of what you’ve lost, returned.

And it isn’t even just that. The other set of papers – the fake ones – mean something too. It’s a way out, a new start if you ever want to leave. To walk away from this godforsaken country and begin anew. To not only lay your past to rest but also leave it behind so that it will never drag you down again. There’s one last file at the bottom, tissue-thin, and it only contains a single slip of paper.

It’s another note: “Sorry, I fucked up your life and shit. Won’t do it again. Happy birthday.”

— The next year, it’s another card, but only a card, with a classic birthday cake superimposed on a baby pink background. An invitation, with a time scribbled on the inside cover, but dead center on the right, a katauta,

I am running out of ways to show you that I love you lets fuck? (Couldn’t fit this in the katauta but I do oral.)

…The way that it makes your heart skip is ridiculous, and honestly, probably an indication of how fucking lonely you are. It’s not even remotely sophisticated, certainly no Henjo or Kisen. And yet…

Your face. Your face feels hot. God, you’re blushing. And your mouth is doing something funny. It takes a moment to realize you’re trying to pull a truly goofy smile. You’d probably never it live down if anyone else were there to witness it. You take a deep breath. Then you glance at the time one last time before pocketing the letter and heading for the bathroom. 

You have a night to prepare for because, apparently, your soulmate is a closet romantic.

— The door swings open, and you’re already smiling as you drink Hidan in. The man has grey hair slicked back with enough grease to start a forest fire and distinctive purple eyes. Still, they suit him, and when he smiles back, it reaches all the way to his eyes – like sunlight reflecting off whiskey, like sunsets when they spark with magic.

Wordlessly, you step back and let Hidan in. He takes a second to toe his shoes off – because he may be a murderous freak, but he’s still your soulmate, and it pays to be polite – but when he rises, he promptly crowds you right up against the nearest wall and kisses you for the very first time, hard and hungry and thorough.

A possessive hand sinks into your hair. Another pulls you close by the waist, and then you’re arching up into him, a twist of his hips sending sparks of pleasure darting across your nerves even as you open your mouth and let Hidan devour you.

The air is heady with the heat of your combined arousal by the time you part for air. Hidan’s lips are swollen red, and you’re both more than a little breathless. You’re not dry humping anymore, but Hidan’s hands remain cradled around your hips, and you’re absently tangling Hidan’s hair around your fingers. Your faces remain close enough that your noses brush.

Hidan’s eyes gleam like firelight as he peers at you, smug and satisfied, warmed by something softer.

“So, like, did all those fucking poems pay off? Do you, like, love me and shit?”

“Yeah. They did.” You smile, and your own words spill over Hidan’s lips, “I love you and shit.”

Hidan smiles and you feel the soul bond glowing bright and solid right down to the atomic level.

A new bond stirs between you, tentative, and fresh but already luminous with potential. Before you can blink, you’re being shoved against the wall again as Hidan flings his arms around you, laughing, laughing, laughing, joyous delight and overwhelming relief.